I grew up at Knott’s Berry Farm—the famous amusement park in Buena Park, CA. My family owned and operated what surely was the only Christian bookstore in an entertainment venue like Knott’s. It was a great place to grow up and meet Christians from around the world.

Our store was located in two places. When my parents opened the store in 1955, it was located in what became Fiesta Village. In 1981, when much of Fiesta Village became “Camp Snoopy,” the Knott family graciously relocated us to the Grand Avenue shopping area, a few doors down from the famous Chicken Dinner Restaurant—a great location for business.

Both locations were adobe style buildings which were painted in Spanish mission colors (bright turquoise, with burnt orange trim and striping, on a tan background). Both buildings required periodic painting to look new and fresh—a feature of most amusement parks. At dawn, the Knott’s paint crews would scatter throughout the park and tackle the area to which they were assigned, working feverishly until the park opened a few hours later.

Since no one wanted guests to ruin their clothing, the painters posted “wet paint” signs with the added caution “do not touch.” The vast majority of days the walls near me went unpainted—no need to do so. No one (at least that I observed) ever reached out to touch any of the walls or surfaces. There was no reason to touch them. That is, until a “wet paint” sign, warning “do not touch” was posted immediately after the walls were painted.

Once the sign went up, hardly a group walked by in which someone did not go out of their way to touch the freshly painted area, only to look surprised when they got paint on their figure tips or hands. This happened over and over again throughout the years.

Why on earth would someone risk getting paint on their hands or clothing? If there had been no sign cautioning them, surely the thought would never once have entered their minds to touch wet paint.

Alas, Paul has the answer to this common human impulse. In Romans 7:7, he writes, “for I would not have known what it is to covet if the law had not said, `You shall not covet.’” No one would think to touch wet paint until a sign warned them not to. The sign which says, “wet paint, do not touch,” becomes the internal mantra “you must touch the paint . . . you must touch the paint . . .”

Paul is, of course, speaking of the law of Moses. But the law will do its work. Human rebellion extends to all kinds of things, including taking common sense warnings as rules to be broken. To paraphrase the apostle, “I was once alive apart from the law,” (when no one cautioned me about touching wet paint) “but when the commandment came, sin came alive and I died” (when I saw the sign, I got paint on my fingers and then ruined my clothes).

Not Specific Things, But an Attitude

Christians don’t seem to worry about this much anymore, but in the churches of my youth it was common to hear sermons on the evils of “worldliness.” “Worldliness” was always tied to certain things–cigarettes, alcohol, playing cards, women wearing pants, men with long hair, and other assorted man-made blue laws. We were taught that if you avoided these things, you would not become “worldly.” If you are old enough to remember such sermons, you know exactly what I am talking about. If you are not, count your blessings! Yes, John commands us “do not love the world, for the world is passing away.” But John is not warning us about sinful things, but a sinful attitude tied to the lusts of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and the pride of possessions. Not only does John warn us about loving the world, he also reminds us that everything connected to this fallen world is destined to perish. Darkness will one day give way to light, because the light (and everything connected to it), will abide forever.

Proto-Gnosticism Is In the Background

John’s first epistle has given us a fascinating look at some of the serious issues facing the churches of Asia Minor toward the end of the first century. We are now in the second chapter of 1 John, working our way through John’s catalogue of the four things which should characterize those who walk in the light–those who have been given life by the word of life, who is God manifest in the flesh. According to John, those who walk in the light will confess their sins (1 John 1:5-2:2), and will strive to obey the commandments of God (2:3-11). We have covered these two distinctives in previous expositions. The third thing which should characterize those who walk in the light is that they are not to love the world (2:12-17). In verses 18-29, John warns the churches that many antichrists have already come into the world–a topic to which we’ll turn next time, Lord willing.

Recall that John is dealing with an early form of Gnosticism which stresses “secret knowledge” and which sets up a dualism between spirit (good) and matter (evil). I’ve already spent considerable time on the distinctives of this proto-Gnosticism, so I would encourage you to look at the previous expositions in this series to understand the circumstances and context in which John’s three epistles were written. In order to properly interpret these epistles, we need to know three things: 1). Why does John write these epistles? 2). We must understand the error John is writing to correct, and 3). We need to notice that virtually everything in these epistles echoes John’s earlier statements in his gospel.

The Gnostic dualism (between spirit and matter) makes our Lord’s incarnation an impossibility. In the Gnostic conception of the universe, how can Jesus be God in human flesh when pure spirit (God) cannot come into contact with matter (which is evil)? These proto-Gnostics were forced to explain Jesus’s physical appearances in the gospels by contending that while Jesus was truly God, he merely took the form (or the appearance) of a man. In other words, Jesus was God, but not human. This is the heresy known as docetism, which John ties directly to the spirit of antichrist.

The Gnostic Heresy and the Spirit of Antichrist

The nature of this heresy explains why in the opening verses John emphatically stresses the fact that he has seen Jesus perform miracles with his own eyes, that he heard Jesus preach with his own ears, and that he even reached out and touched Jesus–who is a flesh and blood Savior, not a phantom or an apparition. John quickly moves on to warn those influenced by these false teachers, and who were now convinced that they were no longer sinful, that they are self-deceived and make God out to be a liar when they refuse to admit that they commit sin. In chapter two, John then reminds us that Jesus offered himself up as a propitiation for our sins, turning aside the wrath of God toward those for whom he is dying. John also reminds his readers that Jesus is now in heaven as our advocate, pleading our case before the Father. All of this requires a truly human Savior who is God manifest in the flesh.

As we saw last time, in verses 3-11 of chapter John reminds his readers that “by this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments.” Although Christians such as John Wesley have misread John’s discussion as though the apostle was speaking about sanctification in terms of whether or not Christians could come to a place in their Christian lives where they could cease from sinning (i.e., “Christian perfectionism”), the context in which John writes this epistle indicates something else. If those influenced by the false teachers were claiming to be without sin, John illustrates the gravity of their error by using a simple contrast between light and darkness. Those “in the know,” who claim to have insight into the secret principles of the universe, think of themselves as “enlightened.” But the reality is they walk in darkness. They are blind to the truth because they have lived in darkness for so long they can no longer tell truth from error.

Walking In Darkness

Because they walk in darkness, they are easily recognizable–they are completely indifferent to the commandments of God which continually expose human sinfulness and reveal to us the will of God. Since Christ has died for us, and since he presently intercedes for us, Christians will walk in the light of God’s will as revealed in the word of God, and in that word manifest in the flesh. And because we walk in the light, the law of God exposes our sins (so that we are not-self deceived and foolishly claim to be without sin), while at the same time, the law shows us what it means to walk in the light. In this, the law is a teacher of sin and the rule of gratitude. Christians, who walk in the light, will strive to obey God’s commands, unlike those who walk in darkness and who have no interest in obeying the commandments.

All of this means that John is not concerned with the question of whether or not Christians can cease from sin. In fact, John’s declaration in 2:1 indicates otherwise–“My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” John is simply making a contrast between those who are indifferent to sin, thereby demonstrating that they walk in darkness, and Christians–those who strive to obey God’s commandments because they are in Christ, who is the manifestation of God’s light in the world.

Those who walk in the light will strive to love their brothers and sisters, they will abide in Christ and bear that fruit which God has ordained them to produce (cf. John 15:16). Because they have the light of God’s word they will not stumble around in darkness, blind to the truth. No, those who walk in the light will strive to obey the commandments, showing themselves to be Christ’s. This is John’s primary point–the contrast between those who are truly Christ’s and those who are self-deceived is as clear as the contrast between light and darkness. The Christian faith is a public faith. God’s people walk openly in the light. Christianity is not a religion of murky secrets, or esoteric teaching, hidden in darkness.

Worldliness

So, with that bit of background and context in mind, we turn to John’s discussion of worldliness in verses 12-17. It is obvious that John has a close and fatherly relationship with those to whom he is writing, as once again he speaks of them as “little” or “dear” children. “I am writing to you, little children, because your sins are forgiven for his name's sake.” Since John goes on to speak of “fathers” and “young men” in the following verses, readers of this epistle have wondered whether or not John is using these terms to differentiate between three groups in the church (children, older men, and sons).[1] I think Augustine is on the right track here when he argues that John is speaking of the pilgrimage of every Christian man who starts off as a babe, becomes a mature son, and then finally a father of the church.[2] In other words, “children,” “sons,” and “fathers” is John’s equivalent of Paul’s “babes in Christ” and “mature in Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:1; Colossians 1:28). A passage like this one offers additional evidence that this epistle was written by the Apostle John, who is now an elderly man, and who offers apostolic counsel to his “beloved,” much in the same way a grandfather speaks to his grandchildren. There is a sense here of familiarity/intimacy along with a grandfatherly sense of authority.

Indicatives and Imperatives

In any case, the declaration “because your sins are forgiven for his name's sake” is very important because it follows John’s exhortation that Christians gain certainty (i.e., “we know that we know”) because we obey God’s commandments. Once again, John reminds us of the importance of the relationship between the indicative and the imperative. An indicative is a statement of fact–Jesus Christ is a propitiation for our sins (as in verse 2) and in the phrase we find here– “your sins have been forgiven” (v. 12), the verb is in the perfect tense. We can paraphrase this as “your sins have been and remain forgiven.”[3] Why must Christians obey the commandments (the imperative)? Because their sins are presently forgiven (the indicative).

The law and the gospel must be kept in proper balance so that you don’t get legalism (i.e., “those who obey God’s commandments are/become Christians through their obedience to the commandments”), or antinomianism (i.e., “since Christ has come, the commandments are no longer binding upon a Christian”). Despite the command to obey the commandments because this is what Christ’s people do (they walk in the light), at the same time for John, the indicative has the last word–“your sins are (and have been) forgiven.” It is vital that we keep this relation between law-gospel and the indicative-imperative in mind so that we don’t make either the perfectionist or antinomian errors.

“Little Children”

So, having comforted his “little children” in verse 12, John speaks to “fathers” (the most mature members of the church) in verse 13. “I am writing to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning.” Those who have been Christians for some time, and who are mature in the faith, “know” him (Jesus Christ) who was “from the beginning.” No doubt, this is an echo from the prologue of John’s gospel (vv. 1-5) where John wrote,

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Despite the turmoil brought upon the churches to which John is writing by those who have departed from the faith and who are doing the work of antichrist, John reminds the mature that they know who Jesus is, and that the one who was “from the beginning” will certainly be able to see his people through whatever crisis the church may be presently facing.[4] The fathers in the faith (complete with their gray hair or bald heads) have lived long enough to learn the lesson of God’s faithfulness. They know him (Jesus) who was in the beginning (God manifest in the flesh). They have no need of any “secret” information which a false teacher might impart to them.

Overcoming the Evil One

In verse 14, John refers to young men, (“sons”). “I am writing to you, young men, because you have overcome the evil one.” To those who are not new to the faith, but still young in age, John reminds them that they “have conquered” the evil one. Although the evil one is not named, it is apparent that John is referring to Satan. This is an echo from John 17:15. During his famous high priestly prayer, Jesus prays “I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one.”

At this point we need to purge from our minds images of the Devil we’ve drawn from popular culture, like that of the Exorcist or the Omen. Satan does not possess people so they spew out green stuff, or so that they blaspheme at the sight of a crucifix. No, Satan’s work is much more diabolical than that–he is the ultimate author of all heresy and false teaching. Behind the many antichrists who have already gone out from the church, is the evil one. We might put it this way–Satan writes the antichrist’s best material.

Recall that in John’s gospel (8:44), John has explicitly told us what Satan does. “You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father's desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and has nothing to do with the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies.” Since the issue facing the congregations to which John is writing is false religion (proto-Gnosticism) and heresy (docetism), John is reminding the young men that since they have come to a knowledge of the truth, they have already overcome Satan.

In John’s gospel, Jesus told his disciples, “the ruler of this world is coming” (Satan) and “he has no claim on me.” Therefore, those who walk in the light overcome the evil one, because they are “in Christ” over whom Satan has no claim. When we walk in the light (of God’s word) the darkness (Satan’s schemes and heresies) are driven out, just as cockroaches flee when exposed by light. We overcome the work of Satan, by proclaiming the truth. This is, of course, keeping with John’s emphasis upon Christianity as a public religion, grounded in history, with a flesh and blood savior, and with God’s commandments published for all to see at Mount Sinai. As we walk in the light, we are delivered from the schemes of the Devil who secretly does his work while hiding in the darkness.

Knowing the Father

As for the children, John states at the end of verse 13, “I write to you, children, because you know the Father.” Because Christ is God manifest in the flesh, if the children know Christ, they also know the Father. John’s statement here certainly recalls to mind the discussion between Jesus and Philip as recounted in John 14. In that chapter, Jesus was informing the disciples that he must leave them, and the disciples were having a very difficult time grasping the meaning of his words. Jesus told them that “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” Struggling to grasp this, Philip asks Jesus the critical question. “Philip said to him, `Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us.’” Jesus’ answer is truly remarkable. “Jesus said to him, `Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.’” This is the same point John is making here. Those who know Christ, know the Father.

In many ways, verse 14 is a rhythmic restatement of verses 12-13, recounting one more time (for the sake of emphasis) the benefits of living in the light.[5] “I write to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one.” The fathers (mature) know Christ. The young men are strong, because they know God’s word. The light of God’s word enables all of us to overcome Satan and thwart his deceptive devices–the propagation of heresy and the work of antichrist.

In verses 15-17, John now turns to a discussion of the Christian’s relationship with the world. As one commentator puts it, “Christian people have entered into a great inheritance in the forgiveness of sins, fellowship with God and the conquest of the evil one, but their temptations have not come to an end.”[6] This is the first time the apostle will mention the world, but it certainly won’t be the last, as we will see as we make our way further into the epistle. When John speaks of the world (kosmos), he uses the term in two distinct ways. In John 1:10, the Apostle uses the term in reference to the created universe, i.e., life on earth. “He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him.” But John can also use the term (world) in reference to human society as it is controlled by the evil one, i.e., the world in its opposition to God. The latter sense is how John uses the term in verses 15-17.[7]

The Strong Imperative

This is important to keep in mind in light of the strong imperative directed to those who walk in the light found in verse 15. “Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.” Notice that the verse contains a contrast between the love of the world (or things in the world) and love of the Father. Those who walk in the light cannot love the Father and the world at the same time. If we miss John’s point and confuse the two meanings of “world” we will make a huge mess of things.

John is not telling us to hate the created order. Not only did God create the universe, but we read in John 3:16 that “for God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” C. S. Lewis was absolutely correct when he said “[God] likes matter. He invented it.”[8] If we take John to mean that we must hate the material world, John would be asking us to do the very thing the proto-Gnostics were doing (and which John is condemning). In fact, God loved his creation so much, he sent Jesus to redeem it. No, John is here speaking of the world as fallen human society as in 1 John 5:19. “We know that we are from God, and the whole world lies in the power of the evil one.” That is what Christians are not to love–human society, characterized by its darkness, and by the fact that it is under control of Satan.

By this we don’t take John to mean that Satan has absolute control, however–Satan is a creature after all and remains, as Luther so aptly put it, “God’s Devil.” But we do mean the world as it lies in darkness, hating the light of God’s word and preferring to live in the darkness where sin can go unnoticed without being exposed and subject to God’s judgment. This is what we are not to love. If we love the fallen world in its fallen condition (not as Christ loved it, desiring its redemption), then we do not love the father. The two loves, John says, are mutually exclusive.

The Desires of the Flesh

In verse 16, John speaks in more specific terms about the love of the world, or what is often called “worldliness.” “For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.” For John, worldliness is the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and pride in possessions. It should be duly noted that in the span of three verses (vv. 14-16), John mentions the three traditional enemies of the Christian–the world (the non-Christian way of thinking and doing), the flesh (i.e., sarx, which is the sinful human nature which is a result of Adam’s fall) and the Devil. John has already mentioned that we overcome the Devil because we walk in the light as God’s truth exposes his deceptive ways. While Satan assaults us externally through the means of false doctrine, the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and our pride, spontaneously arise within us because we are fallen and therefore sinful.

This is vital to keep in mind, so that we don’t make the mistake that fundamentalists often make. They are right to warn us of the dangers of worldliness, but wrong to locate worldliness in things they consider to be sinful (cigarettes, alcohol, etc.). Not to let the Reformed off the hook, none other than the famous Dutch Reformed luminary Abraham Kuyper spoke of the Calvinist fear of worldliness manifesting itself in the three Reformed taboos–the theater, dancing, and card playing.[9] While correct to warn us of the dangers of loving the world–indeed, John commands us not to love the world–it is off target to locate the problem in things external to us. Alcohol or tobacco may never touch our lips, and yet we could still be as worldly as any Gnostic false teacher whom John is warning us about. We may have never played cards, danced, or gone to the theater, and yet we could be as worldly as we can be. The flesh, the lusts of the eyes, and pride in “things” is an attitude, it is a mindset, it is a way of thinking (walking in darkness), which leads to sinful actions..

We see this in 2 Samuel 11 with David’s lust for Bathsheba, which led to her pregnancy and to David’s arranging for her husband Uriah’s death in battle. We see this in Achan’s desire for silver, gold, and the elegant Babylonian robe as recounted in Joshua 7:20-21. Achan describes the desire of the eyes in the following terms.

Truly I have sinned against the Lord God of Israel, and this is what I did: when I saw among the spoil a beautiful cloak from Shinar, and 200 shekels of silver, and a bar of gold weighing 50 shekels, then I coveted them and took them. And see, they are hidden in the earth inside my tent, with the silver underneath.

Bathsheba’s beauty wasn’t the problem. David’s lust was. Neither gold, nor silver, nor fine clothing are sinful in themselves. The problem was in Achan’s own desire for goods which God prohibited Israel from possessing. Achan wanted these things so much that he put the entire nation under God’s curse because of the desire of the eyes.

Let us be clear about this. For John, the cause of worldliness is found within us–not in tobacco plants, or in whiskey bottles. Worldliness is a mindset tied to the unrestrained lust of the flesh. Worldliness is seen in the desire for ill-gotten gain, and in the pride that can go with accumulating much wealth or property. As John goes on to remind us, loving the world is the height of foolishness, because (as he says in verse 17), “and the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.” As light comes into the world, and darkness flees, we are given a hint of the day of final judgement. For John, the world, as it lies under the control of the evil one will pass away, because one day Christ will return and then every hint or trace of darkness will flee away in the light of Christ’s coming at the end of the age. What abides forever is the light, and what remains are those who walk in the light, and who abide in Christ as they strive to obey the commandments of God.

What Should We Take With Us?

While our fundamentalist and Reformed fathers were absolutely right to warn us not to love the world, they should not have focused so much upon avoiding certain activities and material things (i.e. cards, tobacco, and alcohol). The motivation was correct, but the method was short-sighted. Instead, they should have told us that worldliness is an attitude of our sinful hearts. Worldliness is not necessarily tied to things outside of us. For John, worldliness is loving the world as it is under control of the evil one. In our day and age, worldliness is the desire for fame, riches, and celebrity. It is the lust for more of everything, and the self indulgent and immediate gratification of every sinful desire.

Our love for the fallen and sinful world around us spontaneously arises within us because we have sinful natures which led us to see everything from the perspective of self, because we see things (which may be good in themselves) and then desire them even when we shouldn’t (the desire of the eyes), or when we forget our dependence upon God because we have so many possessions, (the pride of possessions). Closing the bars, boycotting the tobacco companies, avoiding dancing, card-playing, and the theater, will not keep us from being worldly. In fact, we can give up all of these things all the while becoming more worldly than ever.

The only thing which can keeping us from loving the world more than our heavenly Father is to walk in the light of God’s word, because that word of life constantly exposes the darkness, and it repeatedly points us back to that one in whom the Father has revealed his love for us, the word of life manifest in the flesh. We fight worldliness by thinking and acting like Christians–what John calls “walking in the light.” This entails believing the right things (indicatives), and obeying the commandments of God (imperatives). As John has made plain, all of this centers around a flesh and blood Savior, who turns aside God’s wrath, who is the very embodiment of what it means to love God and neighbor, and who is now in heaven interceding before us. There is nothing secret in any of this, and those who claim to know the secret principles of life have nothing to say to any of us.

John is crystal clear here. “Do not love the world, for the world is passing away.” When all is said and done, the only things that will remain are those things created and sustained by Jesus Christ, the word of life manifest in the flesh, who is the light of the world. The only way not to love the world, is to walk in the light of the Savior, who is the word of God manifest in the flesh.

________________________________

[1] See the discussion in, Smalley, 1, 2, 3, John, 68-71.

[2] Stott, The Epistles of John, 101, Smalley, 1, 2, 3 John, 70.

[3] Stott, The Epistles of John, 101. Cf. S. M. Baugh, A First John Reader: Intermediate Greek Reading Notes and Grammar (Phillipsburg: P & R, 1999), 29.

[4] Contra Stott, I take John to be referring to Jesus. Cf. Smalley, 1, 2, 3 John, 73-74.

[5] S. M. Baugh, A First John Reader, 30; John Calvin, The Gospel According to St. John (Part Two) and The First Epistle of John, trans. T. H. L. Parker (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979), 243.

[6] Stott, The Epistles of John, 103.

[7] Stott, The Epistles of John, 103, Smalley, 1, 2, 3, John, 84.

[8] C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, 6.

[9] Abraham Kuyper, Lectures on Calvinism, (Eerdmans, 1931), 73.

I recently wrote a short piece for Ligonier entitled, “Who Was Peter?”

Article 14: God’s Use of Means in Perseverance

And, just as it has pleased God to begin this work of grace in us by the proclamation of the gospel, so he preserves, continues, and completes his work by the hearing and reading of the gospel, by meditation on it, by its exhortations, threats, and promises, and also by the use of the sacraments.

___________________________________

As the Canons point out, thankfully, the merciful God who chooses to save a multitude of those fallen in Adam so vast they cannot be counted (Revelation 7:9) does not begin the process of salvation and then give up on those who commit serious sins or who, for a time, fall into unbelief (Romans 8:28–30; 1 John 1:5–2:2). God ensures that all those whom he has chosen to save will persevere unto the end of their lives in faith—despite serious or careless sins. Although God does not promise to undo the consequences we bring upon ourselves through such acts, Jesus does promise that he will indeed save all those given to him by the Father (John 6:37–40; John 10:27–30). Paul concurs (Romans 8:31–38).

As we have seen in the previous articles under this head of doctrine, the opponents of the Reformed doctrine of the perseverance of the saints (the Dutch Arminians, Roman Catholics, and later Wesleyan Arminians) held that such a view makes people indifferent to their sins and offers a false sense of security, leaving little, if any, basis for holy living. Grounding the Christian life in the fear of punishment and the hope of reward, these groups are right to see that the Reformed doctrine—grounded in the saving efficacy of God’s grace in the person and work of Jesus Christ—presents a serious challenge to them. Yes, these groups argue that God gives enabling grace to those willing to receive it, but the Reformed have noted that such forms of motivation do not give life to those dead in sin. Indeed, asking someone dead in sin to take the first step toward God is like asking a corpse to take a breath so that it can come to life and take more breaths.

The Reformed contend that once God gives eternal life to those dead in sin—life which Peter identifies as an “imperishable seed” (1 Peter 1:23)—God will not allow such a person (who is indwelt by the Holy Spirit) to perish. If his elect stray, fall into sin, or struggle with doubt, God has provided for them the means through which those whom he has chosen, and for whom Jesus has died, are restored—the Word and the Sacraments—identified here by the authors of the Canons. God calls us to faith through the proclamation of the gospel. He continues to call us and create faith through that same gospel. “Just as it has pleased God to begin this work of grace in us by the proclamation of the gospel, so he preserves, continues, and completes his work by the hearing and reading of the gospel, by meditation on it, by its exhortations, threats, and promises.” God’s Word never returns void (Isaiah 55:11) and accomplishes that which God intends it to do—in this case, returning the straying sheep to the fold.

The saving promises in that gospel are confirmed by the sacraments—the so-called “visible Word.” As covenant signs and seals, the sacraments confirm and ratify the promises God makes to us in his Word. We cannot see the Holy Spirit do his invisible work of regeneration, but we can see him unite us to Christ in his death and resurrection (Romans 6:4–6) and seal us unto the day of redemption in the waters of baptism. And since Jesus was crucified, died, and was buried long ago, the same promises he made to his disciples are presented anew in the bread and wine (which by faith we take to be the body and blood of Christ), anticipating the great marriage supper of Christ the Lamb (Revelation 19:6–9).

God is gracious from beginning to end. We need not fear his wrath, nor strive to earn his favor. Jesus bore the wrath we deserve, and by providing us with a justifying righteousness, he earned for us a mansion in heaven. And like a marathon runner who is given a cup of refreshing water as they run, so too the sacraments refresh and renew us along the way.

Here’s their website and sign-up info: Redeemer Reformed Church Plant in Reno

Here’s their distinctives and mission

We are ordinary people—sinners rescued by God’s sovereign grace—called together to worship, grow, and serve under the lordship of Christ. Our desire is simple: to be a faithful Reformed church in Reno that glorifies God, obeys His Word, and joyfully proclaims the good news of salvation by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone.

Whether you are new to the Reformed faith or have been shaped by it for years, if you long for:

• God-centered worship that is biblical, reverent, and joyful,

• Faithful preaching that expounds all of Scripture and applies the gospel to daily life,

• Covenant church where families and individuals are discipled together,

• Confessional integrity grounded in the Belgic Confession, Heidelberg Catechism, and Canons of Dort,

…you are exactly the kind of person we are praying God will bring to this core group.

Episode Synopsis:

I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first? I gave you a hint about the good news in the previous episode, in which we took a look at the thesis statement of Romans—Romans 1:16–17. The next time you'll hear good news from Paul—and it is really good news—is when we get to Romans 3:21, which is still a number of episodes down the road. As will become clear, the good news of the gospel must be seen against the backdrop of human sin and guilt before the holy God. Since the vast majority of our contemporaries think that people are basically good and have the ability, if not the desire, to find favor with God, it is important to notice that Paul sees things much differently.

Which is why the bad news is really bad, and why the good news makes no sense apart from the bad. The entire human race is estranged from God by nature and by choice. When Paul is finished with his indictment of the human race—both Jew and Gentile—there is no one left standing. The wrath of God is being revealed against all those who suppress the truth about God in unrighteousness. Because unbelievers inevitably engage in this act of suppressing the truth about God, he gives them over to their lusts and passions so that things run their course and leave such people without excuse. Because all people know that there is a God, but refuse to worship and serve him, they demonstrate that their thinking is futile and their hearts are hardened. And they dare not stand before him on judgment day and make appeal to their goodness, character, good works, or ignorance of the truth.

Paul is clear that the Psalmist is absolutely right to affirm, “The fool has said in their heart, `There is no God.’” As those made in the image of God, he has made us to be creatures well fitted for the world which he also created. We are designed for this world and all of its beauties, joys, and pleasures. This is what makes the suppression of the truth about him so foolish. God has revealed himself to all people—that he is, that he is holy, and that we owe him our every breath. So, when our race fell in Adam, we became a race of rebels who worship and serve created things rather than the Creator. And as Paul is about to explain, the wrath of God is being revealed—not against the innocent who don't know better, but against a race of rebels who suppress the truth in unrighteousness. We live as though none of this were true, or we create a god who blesses our rebellion. But there is a tsunami on the horizon, and it is heading our way.

Show Notes:

• This is a shorter episode than usual, in part, because I decided to split a long episode into two halves, and because it was hot and muggy (you can’t run the AC when recording). I also knew I was leaving town for my annual trek to the Eastern Sierras. So, in preparing a shorter episode earlier there will be no interruption in the Blessed Hope schedule as I initially mentioned.

• My neighbor needs to take advantage of one of those discount AC check-up advertisements, because his AC compressor sounds like an alien space ship landing in his yard. I was able to edit most of the compressor noise out of this episode.

Recommended Resources:

Select Resources for the Study of Romans

Mike Horton on “Without Excuse”

Ligon Duncan on “Why We Are Without Excuse”

R. C. Sproul on “Suppressing the Truth” (audio)

Music:

(Shutterstock): Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op 92m, second movement, Allegretto (A minor)

God Is Light

The contrast between Christianity and false religion is as apparent as the contrast between light and darkness. John the Apostle must deal with certain men who had departed from the faith and who were now denying that Jesus is God manifest in the flesh. To expose their errors, John uses a simple contrast. God is light. Darkness cannot exist in his presence, because light casts out darkness. Since Jesus Christ is God manifest in the flesh, Jesus is that light which has come into the world. That light which gives life, enables God’s people to walk in the light, even as Jesus is the manifestation of the light. And since light casts out darkness, so too Christ’s coming in the flesh means that wherever the word of life is proclaimed, darkness passes away.

How We Demonstrate That We Walk In the Light

As we make our way through the second chapter of John’s first epistle, in this section of John’s first letter (verses 1:5-2:29), John describes four ways in which Christians demonstrate that they are walking in the light. The first of these four conditions is the necessity of repenting of our sin. We considered this in the previous installment as we made our way through 1 John 1:5-2:2. The second condition mentioned by John–that Christians must be obedient to God’s commandments–is found in verses 2:3-11. This is our topic in this exposition. The third condition is spelled out in verses 12-17. John says that Christians must reject all appearance of worldliness, which refers to both the lusts of the flesh and the desires of the eyes. The fourth condition–that we must hold fast to the truth in the presence of antichrists–is spelled out in the balance of the chapter (verses 18-29). According to John, these things are characteristic of all those who live in the light of the word manifest in the flesh.

Proto-Gnosticism, False Doctrine, and Apostasy

Throughout his epistles, John is dealing with an early form of Gnosticism, which contends that a dualism exists between spirit (good) and matter (which is evil). In this dualistic scheme of things, the Christian doctrine of the incarnation of Jesus Christ is an impossibility because God (who is pure spirit) could not in any sense be manifest in human flesh (because flesh is material, and therefore evil). This is why John opens this epistle with the emphatic declaration that Jesus is God manifest in the flesh. John has seen Jesus, heard Jesus, and even touched Jesus. The good news (of the gospel) is that Jesus has come as a flesh and blood Savior.

But those whom John describes as men “who went out from us” were denying that Jesus was God manifest in the flesh–one of the fundamental truths of the Christian faith. In order to explain Jesus’s earthly ministry, these false teachers were forced to contend that while Jesus was fully God, he only took the form (or appeared) as a man. In other words, while fully divine, Jesus was some sort of phantom or apparition, and was not truly human (no flesh, blood, or bones). This is the heresy of docetism. The whole point of Jesus being God manifest in the flesh is that he came to offer himself up as a propitiation for our sins. A propitiation is a sacrifice which turns aside God’s wrath through the shedding of real blood, and through a truly broken body. But a docetic Jesus cannot make such a sacrifice. A phantom Jesus cannot shed real blood. Furthermore, a Jesus who only appears in human form cannot obey the law of God so as to fulfill all righteousness. The docetic Jesus cannot save flesh and blood sinners. John calls those who teach such a thing, “antichrists.”

Another important trait of this early Gnosticism is the idea that enlightenment comes to only a few who discipline themselves to learn the secret insights into the teachings of Jesus, not made public to everyone. Apparently, such esoteric knowledge about Jesus was being taught by those who had departed from the faith. Given John’s focus upon both the death of Christ (who is God manifest in the flesh) and his present advocacy for us in heaven, it is clear that the gospel is grounded in historic and very public events–not some sort of “secret knowledge.” This is why those for whom Christ died must walk in the light. Light casts out darkness. And light can be easily observed.

The Nature of Their Error

Given the series of sharp contrasts John sets upon in 1 John 1:6-2:1 (which we discussed last time), we can be very sure that some sort of antinomianism was being taught by these false teachers mentioned by the apostle. More than likely those who had departed from the faith were teaching that since Jesus had come bringing new revelation regarding the purposes of God, the old covenant was no longer binding. This means that Christians were no longer bound to obey God’s commandments (the law). No doubt, also present was the idea that the once enlightened people claimed to be able to rise above their sin, hence they saw no need of a flesh and blood Savior. Christianity was transformed from a religion grounded in what God has done in history to save us from our sin, into a religion based upon secret teachings and personal enlightenment. Such a religion is, of course, no longer Christianity.

This explains why in verses 8 and 10 John openly challenges those who see no connection between what they believe and how they live. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us” (v. 1:8), and then again in verse 10, “If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.” Not only are those who claim to be without sin self-deceived, even worse, John says they make God out to be a liar. While John is concerned about antinomianism, this also explains the necessity of why those who walk in the light cannot just do what seems right in their own eyes. People who are self-deceived, and who make God out to be a liar, are not in any position whatsoever to teach others about what God does or does not require.

Imperatives Follow John’s Indicatives

So, with that background in mind, we turn to our text, 1 John 2:3-11. Before we look at John’s statement in verse 3, “And by this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments,” we need to keep in mind that which John has just stated in verses 1-2. “My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.” Throughout this epistle we find direct imperatives that Christians must be obedient to the commandments of God. But we must be very careful not to treat these imperatives apart from John’s equally clear comments (indicatives) that Christ’s death is a propitiation which turns aside God’s wrath toward all of our sins, and that Jesus is presently our advocate before the father in heaven.

John is not some sort of perfectionist–that Christians can cease from all sin. But he is a realist. While he gives us this exhortation so that we will not sin (2:1), at the same time he says “but if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” John fully expects that those who are Christ’s will walk in the light, unlike the false teachers who live in darkness. But the apostle establishes the truth of what Jesus does for his people–dying for them, and interceding for them–before telling them to obey the commandments of the Lord.

This is the classic distinction between the indicative mood (a statement of fact) and the imperative mood (a command). It is only after reminding us of what Christ has done for us (indicative), that John tells us what we are to do (keep God’s commandments) because Christ has died for us, and is presently making intercession for us. Only those who are already Christ’s will strive to obey God’s law. Only Christians worry about whether or not they have been obedient enough. A Christian walks in the light, and light exposes that which is hidden–namely our sin. A non-Christian who walks in darkness never even has this struggle with sin and obedience. Why? Because they cannot see (in the light of God’s word) how sinful they truly are.

Why Obeying the Commandments Matters

As for verse 3 itself, John is very direct–those who walk in the light (those for whom Christ has died and now intercedes) are to keep God’s commandments. Striving to obey God’s law is one of the sure tests by which we know we are Christians. By way of contrast, people who walk in darkness have no interest in obeying God’s commandments. The reason why John speaks about the need to obey the commandments in the way that he does, flows directly out of the error with which he is dealing.[1] People who had been taken in by docetic heresy were inclined to believe that what mattered was the “soul,” not the body.

As long as the soul was pure, obeying the commandments of God was not important. If people believed that Jesus was a new revelation of God (but not truly human) and that he came to do away with the emphasis upon things physical, then what really matters was gaining knowledge of religious secrets which would set people free from all things worldly (material). This disdain for the flesh (and all things material) is characteristic of these kinds of proto-gnostic sects. This is why those who rejected Jesus as God manifest in the flesh, were often characterized by indifference to things the Bible regards as sinful.

Therefore, it is vital that John point out the obvious difference between walking in the light and living in darkness. Lest we overlook the obvious shot at those stressing “esoteric” or “secret” knowledge, John reminds his readers that through obedience to the commandments, by this we know that we have come to know him. This is the first of 25 times in this epistle when John uses the verb “to know.” Christians “know that we know.”[2] This is because we trust in a true flesh and blood Jesus, whom John has seen, heard, and touched. No doubt, John is taking up the language of his opponents, and using it to demonstrate that our faith is not based upon secret and esoteric teachings (so-called “gnosis”). We know what we know, because God’s commandments were not revealed to a few who gained knowledge of the hidden principles of the universe. No, God came down to Mount Sinai and published his law on two stone commandments which were then enshrined in Israel’s constitution and history–the Sinaitic covenant.

God’s Will Is Revealed

According to the apostle Paul, these same commandments were written upon every human heart (cf. Romans 2:14-15). When they were published on the two stone tablets given to Moses, that which was written upon the heart, was now revealed for all to see and understand. These commandments are the very reflection of God’s holy, loving, and righteous character. As Paul says in Romans 7:12, “so the law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.” These commandments are known to everyone, they are not hidden. Therefore, when John speaks of God as light, he is surely thinking of these commandments as the revelation of God’s will. And those who are Christ’s will walk in the light of the word made flesh–i.e., they will strive to obey God’s commandments. But never forget that we will strive to obey the commandments only because Christ has already died for us (turning aside God’s wrath) and because he is presently interceding for all his people as our advocate.

Christians (especially those in the Wesleyan-holiness tradition) often go off the rails when they press John by asking him, “is God demanding perfect obedience of us?” John is not speaking about sanctification, or to the question of whether Christians can rise above all sin (perfectionism). John is simply setting out a contrast between Christians (who walk in the light), and those who have departed from the faith (who walk in darkness). Christians know what the light is, because the word has been revealed in history. If they are in Christ, they will strive to walk in that light. But those who chase after secret knowledge and embrace the docetic Jesus, will have no interest in obeying the commandments. They prefer to live in darkness. They love their esoteric secrets more than the word manifest in the flesh.

While John frames his argument in the positive–we know that we know because we obey the commandments–it might help us understand the force of his argument better if we frame it in the negative. Those who walk in darkness do not strive to obey the commandments. Therefore, it is easy to tell who such people are. Despite their claim to be “in the know” they are not interested in God’s law, nor does their conduct comport with what the law requires.[3] John is not telling Christians that they must be perfect. Rather, he is pointing out that the contrast between a Christian and those who have departed from the truth is as obvious as the difference between light and darkness.

Who Has the Truth?

The declaration in verse 3 sets the stage for three traits which should characterize any Christian’s behavior (especially in contrast to those who walk in darkness).[4] The first of these is found in verse 4. “Whoever says `I know him” but does not keep his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him.” John is not speaking about how one makes progress in the Christian life. He’s simply stating that Christians will strive to keep God’s commandments–those who claim to know God, will seek to obey his commandments.

Those who claim to be Christians (the enlightened ones who have rejected the doctrine that Jesus is God in the flesh) will likewise not be interested in obedience, as much as they will be interested in “secret knowledge.” The one is very public, the other is not. Those who claim to know the deeper truths, and who yet have no concern about obedience to the commandments are liars. They demonstrate by their conduct that they do not know God. Again, John is moving away from the hidden/secret, to the public/concrete. John’s basic point is one of contrast. When we look at someone’s conduct, we can usually see how “enlightened” they truly are. If they are indifferent to the commandments while claiming to be Christians, then they are liars. They walk in darkness.

The second thing that should characterize someone who knows God is that the love of God is perfected in them. Says John in the first part of verse 5, “ but whoever keeps his word, in him truly the love of God is perfected.” Again, it is vital that we catch John’s point. He connects “keeping” (obeying) to God’s word. John’s use of logos (“word”) has a dual reference here–both to the written word (Scripture) and to the word manifest in the flesh (Christ).[5] A Christian who obeys God’s word is obeying a published document, and God manifest in the flesh. Such a person’s conduct is plain for all to see, and there is absolutely nothing hidden or esoteric about any of this.

John also says that God’s love is perfected (or completed) in those who obey God’s word. I take this to mean that God’s love for us is completed when those for whom Christ has died, and for whom he intercedes, manifest God’s electing love and grace toward them through their own personal obedience to the commandments.[6] In other words, God’s eternal love toward sinners–that which motivated him to send Christ to suffer and die for us, and then to serve as our advocate, is made complete through our love of God (out of gratitude) because of that which Christ has done for us. Our love of/toward God is the manifestation of God’s prior love for us. This is John’s point in 1 John 4:10. “This is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.” In this epistle, John says that our love for God is perfected through our obedience to his commandments. John’s stress falls upon that which we do, not any secret, esoteric “knowledge” we might possess.

The Way We Walk

In the latter part of verse 5 and in verse 6, John speaks of the third thing which should characterize all Christians. “By this we may know that we are in him: whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked.” Again, John pushes his reader back to their own certainty in Christ–that which they know because the word of life has been manifest in the flesh. John’s readers know this to be true, because out of love for God, they strive to obey his commandments. Because they walk in the light, just as Jesus walked, they know that they are in Christ, and that they abide in him.

“Abiding” is a major theme in John’s Gospel and is discussed in John 15. Not only does John speak of the necessity of “abiding in Christ,” John also reminds us how this is possible while we remain sinners. “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you” (John 15:16). God has chosen those whom he will save, and those whom he has chosen, will abide. They will bear fruit. John’s point here (in the context of refuting proto-Gnosticism) is that those who are Christ’s will walk in Christ’s light, i.e., they will strive to obey God’s commandments. Why? Because God chose them, Christ died for them, and now he intercedes for them.

In verses 7-11 John fleshes out his point with more specifics. If Christians are to obey the commandments of God, those commandments can be summarized by the two tables of the law, love of God and love of neighbor. Believers are called to walk in the light as Christ is in the light. Therefore, believers must love their brothers and sisters in Christ. The importance of this should be clear to those to whom John is writing, as they have witnessed so-called brothers and sisters departing from the faith out of the misguided quest for “knowledge.” But those who walk in the light, will follow the example of Christ, and love their brothers and sisters, for whom Christ died, and for whom he is now interceding.

The New Commandment

John speaks affectionately to his audience in verse 7 as his beloved (or dear friends). “Beloved, I am writing you no new commandment, but an old commandment that you had from the beginning. The old commandment is the word that you have heard.” John has nothing new to reveal to his reader–in this he distinguishes himself from those false teachers whose primary claim was that they had all kinds of new doctrines and commandments. John is clearly speaking of the law, which his readers (especially those Jewish Christians in the congregation) had from the beginning. God gave the law to Adam in Eden, it is written on the hearts of everyone. Nothing new here at all. That law teaches us that we must love God and neighbor–very mundane and basic stuff. Not nearly as exciting as some new and secret revelation about the hidden mysteries of the universe. Just love God and your neighbor.

And yet in verse 8, John speaks of a new command. “At the same time, it is a new commandment that I am writing to you, which is true in him and in you, because the darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining.” John is of course referring to Jesus’s words as recorded in John 13:34. “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” John’s point is that Jesus commanded nothing new when he told us to love one another. But as the author of the law, Jesus wanted to ensure that his disciples understood that the decalogue was itself founded upon love of God and love of neighbor (cf. Deuteronomy 6:5; Leviticus 19:18).[7]

In fact, Jesus was the fulfillment of the command to love God and neighbor, as demonstrated through his own obedience to God, his love of neighbor, and through his sacrificial death, in which he voluntarily laid down his life for his own people. In Jesus we see the very embodiment of this commandment. The commandment to love God and neighbor is old, being enshrined in the law. With the coming of Christ, that commandment is made new, in the sense that Jesus alone fulfills that commandment, indeed embodies it. That is why John can say, that the obedience of Jesus (that which is “true in him”) is likewise seen in those who walk in the light. Those who have been given life by the word made flesh, will in turn love their brothers and sisters, even as Jesus has loved them. In this, the law is fulfilled and God’s work in us is perfected.

The Darkness Is Fading

When John speaks of darkness passing away because the true light is already shining, he’s speaking in eschatological terms. This present age is characterized by darkness. This world (this age) is destined to perish. Darkness passes away because Jesus is the true light of the age to come. His coming (as the truth) exposes error. His coming reminds us that this world (the darkness) is passing away. His coming is the very embodiment of love, and just as light casts out darkness, so too the coming of Jesus casts out hate. Everything associated with the darkness of this age will pass away.

John elaborates upon this a bit more in verses 9-11.

Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling. But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes.

Light and love, darkness and hatred, go hand in hand. Those in Christ are characterized by love and truth. Those in darkness are characterized by hatred and ignorance of the things of God. Those who walk in light will love their brothers and sisters. Those in darkness will not. Those who walk in the light of God’s word will not stumble. But those who walk in darkness–as depicted in Isaiah 6:9-10–not only will hate those who see in Jesus the word manifest in the flesh, but they will have no idea of where they are headed. As Isaiah says, they cannot understand, they are dull, and they are blind. Because they walk in darkness, John says, they have become blind to the truth. They may claim to have knowledge, but they are ignorant about those things which God has revealed. And everyone can see it but them. “Keep on hearing, but do not understand; Keep on seeing, but do not perceive.’”

The Take-Away

John opened this epistle by reminding his readers that Jesus is God manifest in the flesh. John knows this to be true because he has heard Jesus preach, seen him perform miracles, and has even touched him with his hands. John has pointed out that those who deny that they are sinful are self-deceived and make God out to be a liar. Although John has written this epistle “so that we will not sin,” John knows that we will. This is why he reminds us that Jesus came in the flesh to offer up himself as a propitiation for our sins, as well as serve as our advocate in heaven. All of these things require a flesh and blood Savior (the word of life manifest in the flesh), not a docetic Jesus who simply appears in human form.

Since the false teachers were claiming to be without sin and were indifferent to the commandments of God, John’s response to this false teaching is to simply contrast true Christians with those who have embraced the phantom Jesus of the antichrist. The contrast between the two groups is as apparent as the contrast between light and darkness. Those who are Christ’s will walk in the light–they will obey God’s commandments and love their brothers and sisters in Christ. Those who are not Christ’s will manifest darkness and hatred. This is how we know what we know. There is nothing secret about this. It is all out in the open. God has made his will perfectly clear in his word and through the person of his son. Jesus is God come in the flesh. He has suffered and died for us, and serves as our advocate in heaven.

Christianity is a religion of flesh and blood, a religion of obeying published commandments, and loving our brothers and sisters in the rub of daily life. Christianity is a religion of law and gospel, properly balanced indicatives (what God has done for us) and imperatives (what we must do because we are Christ’s). Christianity is not a religion of secrets or techniques. No, Christianity is a religion of light, not things hidden in darkness. And whenever God’s light comes into the world, through the person and work of Jesus Christ, the darkness is passing away before our very eyes.

_________________________________________

[1] Smalley, 1, 2, 3, John, xxiii-xxiv, 43.

[2] Smalley, 1, 2, 3, John, 44-45.

[3] Stott, The Letters of John, 94-95.

[4] Smalley, 1, 2, 3, John, 46.

[5] See the discussion in; Smalley, 1, 2, 3 John, 48.

[6] Stott, The Letters of John, 97.

[7] Stott, The Letters of John, 98.

I needed a new glamour photo for the blog and for those instances when I am a guest on someone else’s podcast and they need a current image of me. I’ve recently lost 25 lbs in response to the onset of old man health issues—I am fine, just a bit more svelte. Not only did I need new pants (suspenders are out), but I needed a picture which actually looks like the new me.

I was recently a guest on the Abiding Grace Radio’s (AGR) live podcast recording at Christ Reformed Church (May 1, 2026), in which we discussed Israel and the Antichrist. We had a blast! The AGR radio program is now serializing that live recording, and in the first installment used an old White Horse Inn publicity photo which still appears in Google photo searches. I was badly in need of a haircut when that picture was taken, and admittedly, I look pretty scruffy. This never worked as a glamour photo . . .

So, when the AGR folks prepared their second installment for that series, I got a kick out of the fact that they too must have thought I needed “spiffing up” and came up with an AI image of me making me look ten years younger than I am. But I would never wear that tie with a striped shirt! I’m an old school oxford-cloth, button down collar, sort of guy. And isn’t it a bit ironic that in an episode in which we talked about the Antichrist, and briefly touched on AI, that an AI image of me appears.

The first time I was AI’d was as a guest for a Spanish Language podcast several years ago. The AI image does sort of look like me, but is kinda creepy—as if I were my own younger brother if I had one.

But I shouldn’t complain too much. Someone tried to contemporize B. B. Warfield, giving him a modern appearance. But he looks more like a hipster megachurch pastor than the “Lion of Princeton.”

Oh, the perils of AI and the glamour photo . . .

Article 13: Assurance No Inducement to Carelessness

Neither does the renewed confidence of perseverance produce immorality or lack of concern for godliness in those put back on their feet after a fall, but it produces a much greater concern to observe carefully the ways of the Lord which he prepared in advance. They observe these ways in order that by walking in them they may maintain the assurance of their perseverance, lest, by their abuse of his fatherly goodness, the face of the gracious God (for the godly, looking upon his face is sweeter than life, but its withdrawal is more bitter than death) turn away from them again, with the result that they fall into greater anguish of spirit.

____________________________________________

Given the number of articles under the Fifth Point of Doctrine addressing the matter of assurance of one’s salvation actually leading to godliness rather than carelessness or indifference to godly living, it is clear that this was a charge frequently raised by the Dutch Arminians (as well as Rome).

The reality is that Christians can and do fall into serious sin—a point acknowledged in previous articles. But in the case of God’s elect, if and when they fall into serious sin, they are eventually restored to God’s favor, even if the consequences of their sin remain a factor in their lives. Since this is the case, those who are restored find themselves taking greater care not to allow such a thing to happen again, as well as possessing a deeper understanding of the grace and mercy of God toward his wayward sheep.

There are a number of biblical cases in which this is evident. In Psalm 51, for example, David cries out for forgiveness, desiring to have his transgressions blotted out (v. 1) and to be washed and cleansed of his sins (v. 2). His sin was exposed by Nathan the prophet after David arranged for the death of Bathsheba’s husband. His sin is before him (v. 3), he acknowledges that he has done evil in God’s sight (v. 4), and he asks for a clean heart (v. 10), praying not to be cast away, nor have the Holy Spirit taken away. Throughout the Psalm, David prays for full restoration before God, the joy of his salvation restored, an increase of wisdom, and to be an example to others. Article Thirteen is, in effect, a summary of Psalm 51—the perfect illustration of what the Canons describe as “a much greater concern to observe carefully the ways of the Lord which he prepared in advance,” and to come to know again “his fatherly goodness, the face of the gracious God (for the godly, looking upon his face is sweeter than life, but its withdrawal is more bitter than death) turn away from them again, with the result that they fall into greater anguish of spirit.”

Much the same can be said of the apostle Peter. After Jesus predicted his coming death and resurrection (Matthew 16:21; 17:22-23; 20:17-19; Matthew 26:1-2), it was Peter who sought to change our Lord’s mind, only to be sternly rebuked by Jesus. Jesus turned to Peter and said, “get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man” (Matthew 16:23). And it was Peter who was adamant that he would never deny Jesus, only to lose his nerve and do so three times after Jesus predicted that this would happen (Mark 14:29-31). Therefore, it was an act of grace and kindness that Jesus made one of his first post-resurrection appearances to Peter, assuring him of forgiveness and restoration (Luke 24:33-34; John 21:15-25).

At Pentecost, we learn Peter was filled with the Spirit and transformed into a bold preacher of the gospel—starting with his famous Pentecost sermon in the temple courts, as recounted in Acts 2:14-21. Some three thousand people were converted that day (Acts 2:41). Peter continued preaching in Jerusalem, with many people healed and demons cast out as a manifestation of the advancing kingdom of God (Acts 3-4).

When Paul is forced to rebuke the Corinthians (as recounted in 2 Corinthians 7:8-12), he tells them,

For even if I made you grieve with my letter, I do not regret it—though I did regret it, for I see that that letter grieved you, though only for a while. As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment! At every point you have proved yourselves innocent in the matter. So although I wrote to you, it was not for the sake of the one who did the wrong, nor for the sake of the one who suffered the wrong, but in order that your earnestness for us might be revealed to you in the sight of God.

According to Paul, godly sorrow produces repentance, longing, and zeal—the very point being made by the authors in article thirteen.

Those who reject the confessional Protestant focus on the assurance of one's salvation—such as the Arminians and the Roman Catholic Church—do so because they view the primary motivation for Christian living as the fear of punishment and the hope of reward. The assurance of one’s salvation flies in the face of such motivation, instead grounding Christian living in gratitude for all that God has done on the sinner’s behalf—the saving merits of Jesus Christ received through faith alone, which provide an unshakable footing for the Christian life.

Episode Synopsis:

Paul is eager to come to Rome to preach the gospel. These words have long been familiar to Christians, and we understand Paul’s sentiment. Yet, in Paul’s day, preaching the gospel was an absolutely scandalous message. The gospel is centered on the cross of Jesus Christ. For us, a cross is a well-known Christian symbol. But for those in Paul’s day, the cross was a sign of shame and denigration. It was something people abhorred and would not speak about. The noted Roman statesman and orator Cicero spoke of the cross as so horrible that Roman citizens should never be subject to such a thing, and should never even entertain the thought of such a horrible manner of death, much less speak of it. So why would Paul be eager to preach such a message if it was likely to repulse and offend people, rather than draw or attract them?

Paul knows that this gospel—centered in the cross of Jesus Christ—is the power of God for the salvation of all who believe. God uses this scandalous message to call his people unto himself, create faith, and grant them eternal life. As Paul tells the Romans, the gospel was first preached to Jews in the types and shadows of the Old Testament, and then through recounting the events associated with the messianic mission of Jesus Christ, which culminated in his suffering and death upon a Roman cross. When the crucified Jesus was raised from the dead three days after his crucifixion, God demonstrated his power—which is of a different kind and far greater than all the military might of Rome. Jesus is truly Lord—not Caesar nor any of the Roman gods. So, when Paul says he desires to come to Rome to preach this message, he is trusting the power of God to do what is impossible for sinful humans: to be given new life, the forgiveness of sins, and to be counted as righteous before God.

Paul is also eager to preach the gospel because in it the righteousness of God is revealed. Sinful men and women can be reckoned or credited as righteous by trusting in the crucified and risen Savior proclaimed by Paul. No amount of sorrow or tears, no enlightened teacher or guru, and no amount of good works can grant this righteous status to sinful people. The only proper response to Paul’s gospel is the empty hands of faith—the reception of this free gift of a perfect and faultless righteousness that is found in the gospel. This is why Paul is eager to come to Rome and preach this scandalous message.

Show Notes:

• A beautiful morning in So Cal when the episode was recorded, with surprisingly few interruptions from airplanes (2). No barking dogs, cawing crows, helicopters, trash trucks, sirens, the neighbor’s air conditioning, etc., etc.

• There will be a short break at the Riddleblog anf Blessed Hope Podcast—the mountains are calling

• My voice sounds a bit thin—allergies.

• As mentioned, Cranfield’s comments are worth repeating:

“It (faith) is not a qualification which some men already possess in themselves so that the gospel, when it comes to them, finds them eligible to receive its benefits. Faith, in the sense in which the term is used here, can exist only as a response to the gospel (or its OT foreshadowing). And it is also wrongly conceived, if it is thought of as being, as a man’s response to the gospel, a contribution from his side which, by fulfilling a condition imposed by God, enables the gospel to be unto salvation for him. In that case, faith would itself be in the last resort a human meritorious work, a man’s establishment of his own claim on God by virtue of something in himself. But it is of the very essence of faith, as Paul understands it, that it opposed to all human deserving, all human establishing of claims on God (cf., e.g., 3.20-22, 28; 4.2-5; 9:32; Gal 2.16; 3.2, 5). For Paul man’s salvation is altogether -- not almost altogether -- God’s work; and the faith spoken of here is the openness to the gospel which God Himself creates, the human response of surrender to the judgement and unmerited mercy of God which God Himself brings about -- God who not only directs the message to the hearer but also Himself lays open the hearer’s heart to the message. And yet this faith, as God’s work in a man, is in a real sense more truly and fully the man’s own personal decision than anything which he himself does of himself; for it is the expression of the freedom restored to him -- the freedom to obey God. But it is not till chapter eight that this secret of faith is revealed.” (Cranfield, Commentary on Romans, I.90).

Recommended Resources:

Select Resources for the Study of Romans

Paul Helm on covenant faithfulness and N. T. Wright

Louis Berkhof on God’s Righteousness

Tom Schreiner on the forensic character of God’s righteousness

Music:

(Shutterstock): Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op 92m, second movement, Allegretto (A minor)

Riddleblog and Blessed Hope Podcast Updates:

• The mountains are calling. There will be a brief interruption of the Riddleblog and Season Five of the Blessed Hope Podcast on the Book of Romans

Thinking Out Loud:

• No to Türkiye—it is “Turkey.” No to Mumbai—it is “Bombay.” No to the “Gulf of America.” It is the “Gulf of Mexico”

• I heard one political commentator make the point that the biggest ideological divide in America today might just be between the political class (those who are super on-line, left and/or right tribalists) and the rest of America who pay little or no attention to political in-fighting until immediately before elections, and even then they usually pay no mind to the political class. The commentator might just be right

• Why do professional sports leagues (MLB, NBA, NFL) feel the need to promote Pride night? This certainly generates more public ill-will than ticket sales

• And why not celebrate Swiss night? The players could all wear lederhosen, and alpenhorns could be used for the national anthem. Stadiums could sell some great cheese and chocolate at the concession stands. Instead of Bobble head dolls, they could sell Swatches with the player’s faces. All the fans would be neutral and could suck on a Riccola cough drop if they get hoarse from celebrating their neutrality. I am an oppressed minority!

• The late State Department official John Negroponte once made the sarcastic comment after Richard Nixon’s 1972 Christmas bombing campaign in North Vietnam—“We bombed them into accepting our concessions.” I hope Trump’s efforts in Iran don’t end the same way

• An old friend and I were recently discussing our favorite rock concerts we attended back in the day. We didn’t know each other at the time, but we were both at the Hollywood Palladium in November of 1973 to see Robin Trower and Wishbone Ash. They were meh . . . But the as of then unknown opening band absolutely stole the show—that little ole band from Texas, ZZ Top. Best 45 minutes of blues rock/boogie I ever saw in person

• We also agreed that the worst concert we ever saw (we both there and still didn’t know each other yet) was Deep Purple in Long Beach in April of 1973. Richie Blackmore was in a snit (what else was new), and someone threw a cherry bomb at the band during their set. When it went off over their heads, the band was furious and stormed off—who can blame them? They came back after a long wait, played three songs half-heartedly, and that was it. Huge disappointment

Currently Reading and Thoroughly Enjoying!

I heard Allen Guelzo speak about this project a year or so ago—a two volume set of beautifully illustrated volumes covering the intellectual and cultural of history of the Western Tradition. They are coffee table books, something you pick up and browse through. They are heavy and not the sort of volume you’ll pick up and read from cover to cover. But they are volumes to which you’ll be drawn to pick up again and again just to browse through them and tackle a topic or two. They are magnificent with great narrative text, illustrations, and well-chosen excerpts from primary sources.

The Publisher’s blurb about volume one:

Where do the threads that form the Western tradition originate, and how were they woven together over the two and a half millennia before 1500? What are the sources of our modern ideas about science, freedom, equality, law, good government, and virtue? These are the questions explored in The Golden Thread, Volume I: The Ancient World and Christendom, written by James Hankins.

The story begins with the seminal culture of the classical Greeks and moves through the Hellenization of the east following the conquests of Alexander the Great. Hankins then narrates the rise and dominance of Rome and the fusion of Greco-Roman and Judea-Christian cultures in the Christian empire of the fourth century AD. The volume follows the history of Christendom from the fall of the Western Roman Empire, charts its centuries-long rivalry with the Islamic world, and culminates in the emergence of European civilization in the Middle Age and Renaissance. 

Volume I Examines how the foundations were laid for the West's political and economic dominance in the modern era, illuminating the deep roots of the ideas, arts, and institutions that continue to shape our world.

You can purchase it here

The Publisher’s Blurb About Volume Two:

With the Renaissance in Europe, the Western world experienced a long series of cataclysmic events that still reverberate in modern society. Written by Allan C. Guelzo, The Golden Thread, Volume II: The Modern and Contemporary West begins in 1500, when the Protestant Reformation brought an end of the Roman Catholic Church's dominance over European states. It then turns to the rise of imperial powers that swiftly circled the globe, and to the explosion of intellectual, economic, and technological advancements sparked by the Enlightenment. 

These were moments of flourishing in Western civilization, but also moments of uncertainty, as they portended the violent political upheavals that shook continental Europe and the Americas during the American, French and Bolivarian Revolutions as well as the Napoleonic Wars. The Industrial Revolution, the Romantic revolt against the Enlightenment, and a second wave of scientific advancement in the nineteenth century challenged any attempt to restore the classical unity of the West. A radically redrawn world emerged from these developments, one that was ill-prepared for the colossal physical and moral shocks of the First and Second World Wars.

In its closing chapters, Guelzo explores how Western civilization has, in our own time, been simultaneously challenged by secular totalitarianism and yet remained remarkably resilient laying the foundations for material prosperity around the globe. Through the paradoxes of the twentieth century, The Golden Thread engages with the most significant questions facing the West today.

You can buy it here

These volumes ain’t cheap, but I find myself looking through them on a regular basis and getting lost in whatever section I’m reading.

Recommended Links:

• Allen Guelzo on The Life and significance of Abraham Lincoln (MP3) Magnificent!

• Michael Horton, Miles Smith IV, and Darryl Hart on the question “was America Founded as a Christian nation?” Outstanding

• Great essay from my friend and old colleague, Andrew Compton. How Did Noah Point to Christ?

• Reformed Dogmatika has published case files from the Genevan Consistory in the days of Calvin. The cases are fascinating, dispel the rumors about a Genevan “theocracy,” and remind us that people or their problems haven’t changed much since the 1560s

A Bit of Fun:

• No pair of sunglasses is worth falling into this

• I showed this to my wife—the look on her face . . . She’d have died if this happened to her—Brave newscaster

• For the life of me, I don’t know how he can do it, or why he’d want to—Joey Chestnut wins again

• As if you could tell there was a new intestinal problem at Taco Bell

• The Dutch have lost it

• Celebrity culture at its worst

• When the bear can’t make it to the woods in time

• LA Mayor Karen Bass is the Lord of the flies

• I’d hate to have this guy for a neighbor—the town crier

• Scientist working on teleporting disappears. There might be a simple explanation . . .

• The latest Nigerian on-line scam—driveway theft

Previous Musings:

June Musings (6/03/2026)

Video:

UP’s beast of a locomotive—Number 4014, “Big Boy”—leaves Scranton, Pennsylvania. The video is like a Jurassic Park of steam locomotives. Every train you had as a kid makes an appearance, with huge crowds cheering along the route. And that whistle . . . “I’m here!” Great stuff!

In Part One, I set forth the background to Warfield’s stinging review of four books written by the then popular mystic Evelyn Underhill. Although Warfield’s “Review” was written in 1914, Underhill’s variety of mysticism (now called “spirituality”) is still very much alive today. As I noted in Part One, a subjective/mystical experience which she and others champion, “provides common ground for those seeking theological justification for religious `diversity and inclusion.’” It is often claimed that doctrine divides, but spirituality—such as a “conversion experience”—unites a broad segment of Americans, which includes many professing evangelicals. Those who are doctrinally ignorant, indifferent, or even hostile to a concrete set of beliefs, can find common ground through a vague and ill-defined “spirituality,” aligning with those with similar experiences. This revival of Underhill’s mysticism is what Michael Horton has identified as the “spiritual but not religious” phenomenon which is now widespread in America.

Warfield, whose job description at Princeton Theological Seminary (Professor of Polemic and Didactic Theology) requires him to pounce upon all perceived doctrinal error, acknowledges Underhill’s skill as a writer. She is good at what she does, which is why Warfield felt so compelled to devote significant attention to her work. He writes . . .

This volume is brilliantly written. All the resources of a trained literary art are expended upon it, and its pages are not only illuminated with numerous well-chosen extracts from the Mystical writers who are thus permitted to tell in their own quaint and often singularly impressive language exactly what they are, but are also gemmed with vivid phrases caught from the Mystics and used by Miss Underhill in her own composition with exquisite skill. Above all it is written with a verve and enthusiasm which impart to it an élan (as Miss Underhill would call it) that sweeps the reader well-nigh off his feet. (337)

Early on in his “Review,” Warfield points out that a definition of terms is very important—especially with an ill-defined subject (Mysticism) grounded in subjective religious experience. Here is where the trouble begins.

Formal definition of the term begins for us already in the Preface. “Broadly speaking,” we read there (p. x.), “I understand it to be the expression of the innate tendency of the human spirit towards complete harmony with the transcendental order; whatever be the theological formula under which that order is understood.” This is “broadly speaking” indeed. By the final clause, Mysticism is at once separated from all “positive religions” whatever; and (as we are immediately told) it is made matter of indifference to the experience of “mystic union” in which it “attains its end,” whether that union is conceived to be with “the God of Christianity, the World-Soul of Pantheism, the Absolute of Philosophy” (p. x.). “Attempts to limit mystical truth—the direct apprehension of the Divine Substance—to the formulae of any one religion,” we are accordingly told later (p. 115), “are as futile as the attempt to identify a precious metal with the die which converts it into current coin.”

Mysticism of the sort advocated by Ms. Underhill cannot be limited to any formulas of “positive religion” (presumably one with any sort of authoritative doctrine). The image given us by Isaiah (in 6:1-13) of one such moment of “direct apprehension of the Divine substance” is vastly different from the type of mystical union spelled out by Underhill. She might find “union and harmony” when encountering what she assumes is “the divine substance,” but Isaiah was immediately overcome by the awareness of his sinfulness. This is but one of the things missing from Underhill’s supposed encounter with the divine.

As important as definitions are, Warfield notes, Underhill’s attempts to define her terms are far from clear or helpful.

It is upon the little word “innate,” however, that the hinge of the definition turns. Mysticism is “the expression of the innate tendency of the human spirit towards complete harmony with the transcendental order.” In other words it is “natural” religion; and it is therefore that it is quite independent of all possible conceptions of that “only Reality,” which is here called “the transcendental order.” Let philosophers call it “the Absolute”; let theologians call it “God”; think of it as Personal Spirit, think of it as the impersonal ground of Being, think of it how you choose: the human spirit moves by its own intrinsic gravitation towards it, and this gravitation towards it is Mysticism. Obviously “Mysticism” is used here as but a name for the inherent native religiosity of the human spirit.

The “Absolute” supposedly encountered by Mrs. Underhill has much in common with the inscription on the infamous Athenian altar dedicated to an “unknown god,” as mentioned by Paul in Acts 17:23. A better term for the “religiosity of the human spirit,” might just be “the flesh,” identified by Paul in Romans 8:5-8.

Warfield notes Underhill’s efforts to define mysticism as “the science (or better the skill) of union with the Absolute.” Notice her challenge to those who merely talk without attaining.

Subsequent formal definitions advance us but little beyond this. Thus, for example, when at a later point Miss Underhill is again (as in the Preface) animadverting [disapproving] upon the loosenesses of the current usages of the term, she emerges with this crisp assertion (p. 86): “Mysticism, in its pure form, is the science of ultimates, the science of union with the Absolute, and nothing else.” She does indeed go on to declare that “the mystic is the person who attains to that union, not the person who talks about it”; that it is not a matter of “knowing about” but “Being” (she spells it with a big B); but she seems already to have closed that question by defining it as “science”—for “science” is “knowing about” ex vi verbi. When, among sciences, she declares Mysticism to be this particular science, namely, “the science of ultimates,” she seems to identify it with what we are accustomed to call Metaphysics; but that she can scarcely mean this is manifest from the parallel phrase which she immediately adjoins: “the science of union with the Absolute”—for certainly Metaphysics is not that. What is apparently meant to be asserted is that Mysticism is the systematized knowledge of “union with the Absolute”; or, since the emphasis is thrown on the practical side, perhaps we may say (as we speak of “pugilistic science”) that Mysticism is expertness, acquired skill in attaining “union with the Absolute.”

Talk about religious experience is cheap indeed. But how does one know that Underhill’s experience is not a fantasy, a calculated way to attract followers and sell books (it has happened before—Christian Books Which Fudged the Truth), or even something demonic? We have no way of knowing—we only have her word that she has experienced such a union. And since her testimony to that effect is patently unbiblical, there is no reason to believe her. Yet, describing her experience with a sense of élan has made her famous as well as a guide for those seeking something more than “knowing about” the Absolute—who, by the way, has revealed himself in Scripture as something other than “the Absolute,” or the “divine substance,” but as the Triune God who is revealed in his word and works, especially through the person and work of his Son and in the power of the Holy Spirit.

To be continued . . .

From Episode Four of Season Five of the Blessed Hope Podcast series on the Book of Romans

Paul’s doctrine of calling Gentiles—those apart from membership in Israel—to trust in Israel’s Messiah grows out of the messianic expectations of the Old Testament. In Isaiah 49:1–7, the prophet speaks of a future time in which the gospel will go out to the ends of the earth and bring great blessings to the nations.

Listen to me, O coastlands, and give attention, you peoples from afar. The Lord called me from the womb, from the body of my mother he named my name. . . . I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth. Thus says the Lord, the Redeemer of Israel and his Holy One, to one deeply despised, abhorred by the nation, the servant of rulers: “Kings shall see and arise; princes, and they shall prostrate themselves; because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.

According to Isaiah, the coming of the Messiah is connected to those Gentile nations that formerly oppressed God’s people and are now being called to join Israel as worshipers of YHWH. Jesus Christ, who is the true servant of YHWH spoken of by Isaiah, is the light to the Gentiles (cf. Isaiah 42:6; 52:10; 60:3), a theme fulfilled in the messianic mission of Jesus when he declares, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). Jesus will call his chosen ones to faith. His messianic kingdom will crush empires and convert princes. Therefore, when Paul reminds the church in Rome that the sovereign God has called them to faith in Israel’s Messiah through the gospel, Paul is bearing witness to the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy. Let us not miss the irony here—the capital of the world’s greatest pagan empire is now home to a Christian church full of former pagans from distant lands who worship Israel’s God. Isaiah’s prophecy is being fulfilled—the church in Rome is proof.

Christ’s call of sinners through the gospel has a particular goal or purpose. Those who obey the call of the gospel through faith are also called to be holy. The ESV’s “saint” is a translation of the Greek word “holy” (ἁγίοις - hagios). The primary meaning of hagios throughout the New Testament is that, by virtue of God’s call, Christian believers are now set apart for God’s own purposes.[1] It is because God has called us through the gospel that we are regarded as “holy.” “Thus those `called holy ones’ in Paul’s letters are those who have been called by God to respond in faith to the person and work of Christ, and so have been given `in Christ’ the status of God’s `holy people.’”[2] Personal holiness (as an achievement) is not Paul’s focus here, although the transformed lives of those called to be saints is certainly a consequence of God’s call.[3] We can think of the tabernacle and its implements as “Holy” not because they earned or accrued merit, but because ordinary things were set apart by God for “holy” purposes (cf. Hebrews 9:2-7).

In no sense is our own achieved holiness the basis for God’s call. In fact, any true holiness we manifest is the effect of God’s call and the fruit of our justification (our right standing before God). Everyone who is called to faith in Jesus Christ through the gospel is set apart for God’s purpose and is both declared holy (justification) and then progressively made holy (sanctification). Every Christian is rendered a “saint” by virtue of God’s gracious call. The title saint is not reserved for those few who manage to attain great levels of personal holiness, as is erroneously taught by Rome. We are all “saints” in this sense.

____________________________

[1] “The adjective can be used as a noun to denote people, things, or places that are set apart for divine purposes, such as the sanctuary (Heb 8:2) or the holy ones—i.e. believers or angels (e.g., Phil 1:1, Heb 13:24; 2 Thess 1:10). Christians and Christian fellowship are to be holy (hagios) because they are called out from the world by the holy (hagios) God (1 Pet 1:15–16) and sanctified (ἁγιάζω, hagiazō) by the work of Christ (1 Cor 1:2) and the Holy Spirit (Jude 20).” See Douglas Mangum et al., eds., Lexham Theological Wordbook, Lexham Bible Reference Series (Bellingham: Lexham Press, 2014), s.v. hagios.

[2] Longenecker, The Epistle to the Romans, 86.

[3] Cranfield, Commentary on Romans, I.70.

The Blessing of Light

Imagine stumbling through life in complete darkness, not knowing where you are going, and unable to avoid danger or disaster. For the apostle John, walking in darkness is a powerful metaphor depicting the fate of those apart from Christ–forced to live as slaves to sin, in complete ignorance to the things of God, and at the mercy of false teachers who claimed to be “enlightened,” but who are completely in the dark about the things of the Lord. As John opens this epistle, he reminds us that God is light, and because we have eternal life, we walk in the light of God’s revelation of himself in the person of Jesus Christ, the word of life made manifest in the flesh.

The three epistles we know as 1st, 2nd, and 3rd John were written by the apostle John, who is also the author of the Gospel bearing his name. We know this to be the case based upon the grammar and style of these epistles, which repeatedly allude to, or are dependent upon, the Gospel of John. It is highly probably that these epistles were written after John had completed his gospel. Christian tradition tells us that John had fled Jerusalem at some point before the destruction of the city in 70 CE, eventually relocating to Ephesus, where it is believed that he lived well into old age, dying during the reign of the Roman emperor Trajan. Since I spent a fair amount of time on background material in the first installment in this series, you can read prior exposition to better understand the situation in which these epistles were written.

A Brief Recap

Since we are covering new ground, it is important to briefly recap John’s purpose in writing before we work through our text. Based upon the content of these epistles it is reasonable to conclude that they were written for the purpose of explaining and elaborating upon themes within John’s gospel, as well as to correct the errors of various false teachers who were distorting things John had stated earlier. This will become clear shortly when we come to verses 1:6-2:1, in which John responds to a series of errors being taught by those who departed from the faith.

Like the Book of James, John’s first epistle is probably a sermon in which John proclaims to us that Jesus is God manifest in the flesh, who came to earth to bring the word of life. At many points, John simply sets out the truth regarding the person and work of Christ in full confidence that the truth will cast out all error. At the heart of this truth is the fact that Jesus is God manifest in human flesh who came to save us from our sins. This is the light of the gospel, and those who know and understand Christ’s person and work will walk in that light. Walking in the light means repenting of our sins, loving our brothers and sisters, and living confidently in the hope of eternal life.

The Presence of Apostates/Heretics

But John also must deal with those whom he says “went out from us” (1 John 2:19), men who were now denying what John had taught them–that Jesus was God manifest in the flesh. Thus in 1 John 4:1-3, the apostle warns his reader,

beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world. By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, and every spirit that does not confess Jesus is not from God. This is the spirit of the antichrist, which you heard was coming and now is in the world already.

Not only have false prophets gone out (from the church, having become apostates), but their message is very straight-forward. They deny that Jesus is God in the flesh–an error with catastrophic consequences. Believers are therefore to test everyone’s teaching in light of John’s revelation that Jesus Christ is God come to earth in human flesh. To deny the incarnation of Christ is to embrace the spirit of antichrist.

Given the presence of what is known as the “docetic” heresy in which Jesus’s true humanity is denied, it should not surprise us that the city of Ephesus was a hot-bed of an early form of Gnosticism. Gnostic systems set up a dualism between spirit (the good) and matter (which is evil). If pure spirit is good and matter is evil, then Christ’s incarnation is an impossibility. How can God, who is pure spirit, take to himself a true human nature which is evil because it was material? People who think this way are going to have a real problem with Christianity. This is why false religions are inevitably forced to reduce Jesus to a mere enlightened teacher or prophet, because in their worldview God in human flesh (an incarnation) is an impossibility. Yet the incarnation is a fundamental doctrine of Christianity.

An additional characteristic of Gnosticism is the stress upon secret knowledge, in the form of esoteric truths known only to a few who have gained enlightenment. As we go through the body of this epistle, we will see John repeatedly emphasize that his readers already know and understand certain things because they have been revealed, publicly, in and through the ministry of Jesus. The gospel is public. It is grounded in specific facts–Jesus’s incarnation, life, death, and resurrection. This means that Jesus is a flesh and blood savior. This is also why John’s gospel is tied to things Jesus said, did, and taught in history. John opens this epistle by stressing what he heard, what he saw, and whom he touched. John has already proclaimed these facts in his gospel, hence those to whom he is now writing should already know and understand. They do not need any additional enlightenment from those who deny what John has already taught them about the word becoming flesh. What remains, yet to be revealed, that God has not deemed fit to tell us in his word and through the person of his Son?

Jesus–God in Flesh

In order to explain our Lord’s visible appearance in the gospels, many of these proto-gnostic groups argued that while Jesus was true God, he only “appeared” in human form. In other words, Jesus was fully divine, but was not in any sense truly human. This is known as docetism, one of the earliest heresies in church history. This docetic understanding of Jesus not only denies the incarnation (that God took to himself a true human nature), but John attributes this teaching to the “spirit of antichrist.” This is why John so emphatically stresses that he has heard Jesus with his own ears, that he has seen Jesus with his own eyes, that he has even touched Jesus with his own hands. A docetic Jesus cannot shed the blood which redeems us. A docetic Jesus cannot fulfill the righteous requirements of the law. That Jesus whom John has already proclaimed to his reader is the word of life manifest in the flesh, and who suffered and died for our sins. A docetic (phantom) Jesus can do nothing to save flesh and blood sinners.

Last time we dealt with the prologue of John’s epistle (the first four verses). We now move into the first major section of John’s epistle which runs through to the end of chapter two (1:5-2:29). In this section, John describes the Christian life in terms of living in the light of God’s revelation in Christ. In verses 5-7 John speaks of God himself as light (in verses 5-7), and then in verses 1:8-2:2 John informs us that to walk in the light, we must confess our sins with the confidence that God has forgiven our sins in Christ, who is our advocate, and who gave himself as a propitiation for our sins.

But dealing with sin is only the first of four conditions given by John in this section, and we will take up the other three conditions, Lord willing, in future expositions. According to John, we must obey the commandments of God (verses 3-11), we must reject worldliness (12-17), and we must keep the faith in the face of antichrist and false teachers (verses 18-29). The next major section of John–which contains conditions for living as God’s children–will take us through chapters 3-5 and bring us to the end of this epistle.[1]

Light Not Darkness

As we turn to our text, we find a number of important themes, which re-appear throughout this epistle. The first of these is a declaration that God is light. In verse 5, John grounds everything which follows in what was revealed to John by Christ himself–that one whom John himself heard preach. “This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.” The opening phrase in this sentence tells us that what follows is a sermon of sorts containing a particular message–the gospel.[2] The message which John is proclaiming is not something the apostle has made up, it is not some sort of esoteric religious knowledge that only a few enlightened ones can understand. John’s message is grounded in what John has heard from none other than Jesus himself. And what he has heard, he now proclaims. This is why the gospel is called good news. It is the proclamation of what God has done to save us from our sins.

While gnostic teachers were fond of the light/darkness metaphor, John uses this of Jesus because this is found in the Old Testament. In Psalm 119:130 we read of light in connection to truth, “the unfolding of your words gives light; it imparts understanding to the simple,” while in Isaiah 5:20, the prophet says “woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!” In the prologue to his gospel (John 1:7-9), John speaks of Jesus as follows. “He [John the Baptist] came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.” In several passages in the Old Testament, light/darkness is used in terms of the contrast between good and evil, righteousness and unrighteousness, while in the opening of his gospel, John speaks of Jesus as the light coming into the world. John does this to demonstrate that Jesus is the very embodiment of truth, love, and righteousness.

In the opening verses of this epistle, when John says “God is light” he is reminding us that since God is light, all darkness is therefore excluded. This metaphor sets the stage for what comes in the following verses. If God is light, and Christ is the true light come to earth, then all those whom have been given life will walk in light (truth, love, and righteousness) now revealed when Jesus was manifest in the flesh. Those who have been given eternal life will be characterized by a life which corresponds to these things. They will manifest light, and not be characterized by darkness. This is an important point for John to establish, since it is likely that some sort of antinomianism was being taught by the false teachers. This antinomianism takes two forms. The first is that there is no need to obey the commandments because of the coming of Jesus did away with them, while the second entails a denial of the sinful nature because enlightened people live above sin, hence have no need of a Savior.

What Do We Do About Sin?

In verses 1:6-2:1, John sets up a series of sharp contrasts to expose the error of those who either denied the presence of sin, or else were indifferent to sin. The contrasts (verses 7, 9, 2:1) which John sets up in response to the error (6, 8, 10) resound with echoes from Psalm 32, especially the opening verses of the Psalm which describe the blessings of forgiveness: “Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.”

In verse 6, John sets forth the error present in the churches, which he refutes in verse 7: “If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth.” Notice that we cannot have fellowship with God while living in darkness, because God is light. And so in verse 7, John reminds us of the truth resulting from Jesus being the manifestation of light. “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.” Not only must we walk in the light to have fellowship with God, but to walk in the light means understanding that the blood of Jesus was shed to cleanse us from our sins. Jesus’s death avails for all those who live in the light–i.e., those who were given eternal life by the word made flesh.

A strong indication that the false teachers denied the presence (or existence) of sin, becomes clear in verse 8. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” Despite the claim to be enlightened to the point of having risen above sin, or in the case of those who are now indifferent to sin, John reminds them in no uncertain terms that to claim we have no sin is to be-self deceived. At the very least, this implies a willful rejection of the truth.

The Danger of Self-Deception

Again, John exposes the foolishness of this self-deception in verse 9. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Not only is sin a reality, but the whole point of the word becoming flesh and then suffering and dying upon the cross is so that our sins are forgiven, and so that we are cleansed from all of sin’s guilt and liberated from its power. There is another loud echo here from verse 5 of the 32nd Psalm where the Psalmist declares–“I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, `I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,’ and you forgave the iniquity of my sin.”

Notice the stress in John’s contrast falls upon God’s faithfulness. The apostle uses language drawn from the Old Testament in reference to God’s faithfulness to the covenant promises, even when God’s sinful people disobey the terms of the covenant. The reality of the history of Israel is that God’s people sin. But despite their sinfulness, God remains ever faithful. Given that God knows everything, attempting to hide our sin from him is foolishness. In confessing our sins to God, we see that God is just. The guilt of our sins is reckoned to Christ–it is not as though God just conveniently forgets about them. Because God is holy, the debt we owe to God must be satisfied. And it is Jesus–God manifest in the flesh–who suffered and died to pay for the guilt of our sins. Notice that forgiveness is closely tied to cleansing–the blood of Jesus washes away our sin, and our unrighteousness. We are forgiven only because the guilt of our sin is removed. This requires God’s covenant faithfulness in the face of our disobedience.

The futility of denying human sin while claiming to have risen above it, or to be indifferent about human sinfulness, can be seen in the third contrast, verse10 with 2:1. In verse 10, John speaks of the sin of denying that we are sinful. Let me say that again–it is a sin to deny that we are sinful. “If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.” To deny that we are sinful to say that God’s declaration about us is not true–that we are born in sin (cf. Psalm 51; 58) or that every inclination of our hearts is sinful even from birth (Genesis 6:5). Making God out to be a liar is a sin. In this case, darkness has no right to speak in judgment upon the light.

We Remain Sinful

Therefore, John can say by way of contrast in verse 1 of chapter 2, “My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” The apostle John is not an antinomian! He never implies anything like “Look, since Jesus’s death pays for our sin, go ahead and sin all you want.” But John is a realist. He knows that despite the fact that the word has given us eternal life, and despite the fact that Jesus has died for our many sins, purifying us and forgiving us, we remain sinful. Even those who walk in the light will still sin. But this is not a reason to despair. Why? Because we are God’s precious children who have an advocate with the father, none other than Jesus Christ himself. Not only is Jesus “righteous” because he alone is without sin, but he also shares our human nature with us. If Jesus only “appeared” in the form of a man (as the docetists were teaching) then we would still be in our sins. How wonderful it is to know that the one who is our advocate, also knows what it means to be human. Our Savior understands our suffering and weakness.

Our Advocate

The key term in verse 1 of the second chapter of John is “advocate,” (paraklatos) which is a term unique to John and literally refers to someone who comes alongside to help.[3] The term as used by John conveys the idea of an advocate or counselor (a lawyer), someone who pleads for the guilty.[4] In this case, we have an innocent intercessor (Jesus) pleading our case before the heavenly court (when we are anything but innocent). As Augustine so aptly put it,

if you should have a case to be tried before a judge and should procure an advocate [lawyer], you would be accepted by the lawyer and he would plead your case to the best of his ability. If, before, he was finished with his plea, you should hear that he is the judge, how you would rejoice, because he could be your judge who shortly before was your lawyer.[5]

The reason why we are to be comforted (as dear children) whenever we sin, is because the same one who died for us, is now in heaven, pleading our case before the father. Jesus is our advocate in the heavenly court.

The very thought of this is intended to do two things. The first is that Jesus’s role as advocate means that even now he is in heaven pleading our case, praying for us. This gives us great confidence that nothing can separate us from the love of God. Can Jesus intercede for us before the father, only to be turned away and have his prayers not answered? This will never happen. This is why Reformed Christians believe in the so-called “perseverance of the saints.” We will persevere unto the end in faith, because Christ preserves us through his present intercession for us. The second reason John writes this is so that we will not sin. Perhaps the best motivation to keep struggling against sin is simply to consider the cost that Jesus paid to free us from those sins, especially in light of the fact that Jesus is now presently interceding for us in heaven. His blood was once shed, but his priestly work is ongoing.

Particular Redemption

Verse 2 is one of those important verses which not only reveals to us something about the nature of Christ’s redemptive work, but the interpretation of this verse has a long and controversial history within the Reformed tradition. It is often cited as one of the “Arminian” verses which supposedly refutes the Calvinistic or Reformed understanding of the atonement as being “limited” to the elect. Let me just say before we look at the verse that not only does John not “refute” the Reformed understanding of the atonement, John actually gives us another proof-text for particular redemption. John writes, “He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.”

The first matter is the meaning of “propitiation,” which is a very important theological term referring to the offering of a sacrifice which turns aside God’s wrath. Those who think that God has one chief attribute (love) to which all other attributes must be made subservient, believe the very idea that the death of Jesus is a sacrifice which turns aside God’s wrath is morally repugnant. So, it should come as no surprise that the whole idea of substitutionary atonement has come under a full assault recently, even from many in evangelical adjacent circles.

Echoing the Protestant liberals of the 1920's, the image of Jesus dying in the place of sinners, supposedly bearing the Father’s anger in his own flesh, is now mocked as a form of “cosmic child abuse” which, it is argued, opens the door to all kinds of domestic violence–if God punished his son, why can’t I hit my wife?– is the way this is framed by critics of the biblical doctrine. As one so-called evangelical writer recently put it, “the fact is that the cross isn't a form of cosmic child abuse – a vengeful Father, punishing his son for an offence that he has not committed.”[6] I beg to differ–strenuously so. John states in this verse that Jesus was a propitiation for our sins.[7] The word John uses (hilasterion) clearly means that Jesus suffered and died, bearing God’s wrath and anger toward our sins. This is what the word propitiation means.

Why did God do this? Because he is love, and because there was no other way to save us from our sins. Never forget that while God is love, he also hates sin. We can’t pit God’s attributes against each other, nor can we make love God’s chief attribute. Yes, God is love–therefore Jesus is the word manifest in the flesh. But God is also holy–the word was manifest in the flesh so that he might be punished for our sins. If any were to be saved, Jesus must bear in his own flesh the penalty due us for our sins–or else we must be personally and eternally punished for our sins. Either Christ bears the wrath of God for us, or we will face that wrath on the day of judgment.

And this point, if true, leads directly to the Reformed understanding of the atonement as limited by God’s design to the elect only. If Jesus dies in the place of a sinner, and actually turns aside God’s wrath and anger toward that particular sinner, how then can the sinner be punished eternally now that God’s anger toward them has been turned aside? They can’t. If Christ paid for the person’s sin, on what basis can God send them to hell? If you say it is because they didn’t believe, now you’ve made unbelief the one sin for which Jesus didn’t die. You’ve just limited the atonement, not to its extent as the Reformed do, but as to its efficacy, as all those who hold to a universal atonement must do.

At the end of the day, there’s not a hint here that Jesus’s death was designed to make everybody savable if only they would believe. No, John says that the death of Jesus is the propitiation for our sins–meaning that the death of Jesus actually accomplishes its purpose, which is to turn aside God’s wrath toward those for whom he is dying (and for whom Jesus actually intercedes as our advocate). Do we really want to say that Jesus dies for everyone, as well as intercedes for them, only to have multitudes of those for whom he dies, and for whom he intercedes, perish eternally? Of course not. If you believe that sinners will be punished eternally, then you must limit the atonement as to its design (to save the elect) or as to its efficacy (Christ dies for people whom he cannot save, and for whom his intercessory prayers are not answered). It seems to me that the Reformed view of this makes the best sense of the passage.

But what about John’s emphasis upon the fact that Jesus was the propitiation for our sins and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world. Doesn’t this mean that Jesus died for everyone, without exception? Not necessarily. For one thing, John speaks of the “whole world” elsewhere in this same epistle, and there it cannot refer to all people without exception. In 1 John 5:19, John writes, “We know that we are from God, and the whole world lies in the power of the evil one.” Can the phrase the “whole world” in this verse mean each and every person who has ever lived? No. The phrase “whole world” does not mean “all” inclusive, but the majority or many. In 1 John 2:2, I would take John to be stating that Christ died not only for those of us in Asia Minor, but even for Christians throughout the whole world. And this interpretation is not the invention of John Calvin, but has been held by many throughout the history of the church, even among the church fathers.[8]

What Do We Say By Way of Application?

The fact that Jesus is the word come in the flesh is not some sort of religious curiosity. John does not stress the fact that he heard Jesus preach, saw him perform miracles, and that he touched him, so as to impress his readers. The word became flesh to give himself up as a propitiation for our sins. Because Jesus bore God’s wrath and anger in his own flesh, we know that if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just, and he will forgive us of our sins. Not only did Jesus die for our sins, but he is now in heaven as our friend and advocate, pleading our case and interceding for us. Therefore if we sin, we know that we are not cast away, and that when we confess our sins, we know our advocate comes to our defense.

Since this is the case, how can anyone who walks in the light say to themselves, “since Jesus died for my sins, I’ll just sin without any regard to the price Jesus paid to redeem me, or without regard to the fact that Jesus is presently interceding for me in heaven.” But this is John’s purpose in writing. “My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin.” The best way to wage war on sin is to keep in mind those things which Jesus did to redeem us from our sin, as well as keeping in mind that Jesus is our advocate in heaven. This is what it means to walk in the light.

Finally, in all of this we see the futility of denying that we are sinful. Can you hide your sins from God? To even claim that we are without sin is to commit the sin of calling God a liar. To think like this, John says, is to walk in darkness. Be we don’t walk in darkness, we walk in the light. And if we walk in the light, “we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.”

_______________________________________

[1] Smalley, 1, 2, 3 John, xxxiii-xxxiv.

[2] Smalley, 1, 2, 3 John, 19.

[3] Smalley, 1, 2, 3, John, 36.

[4] See the discussion in; Brown, The Epistles of John, 215-217.

[5] Cited in; Gerald Bray, James, 1-2 Peter, 1-3 John, Jude, Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture, New Testament, Vol. XI (Downers Grove: Inter-Varsity Press, 2000), 176.

[6] Steve Chalke, The Lost Message of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2003), 182.

[7] See, for example, Leon Morris, The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980), 144-213.

[8] Take the early church, for example, i.e., Hilary of Arles, Bede. Cited in Bray, Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture, 177-178.

Article 12: This Assurance as an Incentive to Godliness

This assurance of perseverance, however, so far from making true believers proud and carnally self-assured, is rather the true root of humility, of childlike respect, of genuine godliness, of endurance in every conflict, of fervent prayers, of steadfastness in crossbearing and in confessing the truth, and of well-founded joy in God. Reflecting on this benefit provides an incentive to a serious and continual practice of thanksgiving and good works, as is evident from the testimonies of Scripture and the examples of the saints.

__________________________________________

The charge that God’s sovereign grace removes all motives for good works is a longstanding canard raised by those who would base the motives for godly living in the fear of punishment and hope of reward. This matter was addressed in previous heads of doctrine (CD 1.12-13; and CD 3-4.15-17) because it is such a common objection raised by opponents of the Reformed understanding of salvation as monergistic. To put it simply—God does all the saving, of which our repentance and good works are the effects of prior salvation and not the basis for it. And if God does all the saving, and it is purely by grace, the challange arises, “what motivation remains for doing good works?”

The authors of the Canons point out the obvious. Assurance of salvation is the root of true humility, not a basis for boasting. Semi-Pelagian schemes (most notably Roman Catholic and Arminian) which understand salvation as a cooperative act (synergism—God makes his grace available to all who want it) ought to consider the fact that their scheme of salvation actually creates the very boasting they accuse the Reformed of teaching.

If we cannot save ourselves, and if any good we do is the fruit of prior grace and salvation (monergistic), then there is no basis whatsoever for boasting. What do we have to boast about? Nothing. But if grace is merely potential (as semi-Pelagians tell us is the case), then those who come to faith did something about which they can boast—they are the ones who realized that they had it within themselves to act in such a way that they could force God to respond favorably. They can boast that they saved themselves, with God’s help, of course.

Commonly used sermon illustrations illustrate the point rather nicely. “Salvation is like a life preserver thrown to a drowning person. Swim to it and grab on to it before you drown!” Or, “you have a fatal disease–it is up to you to take the medicine which will cure you.” But the Reformed have already established from the Scriptures that it is too late to take such actions by which we can save ourselves. We’ve already drowned, or died from the illness. Those whom God saves are those “dead in sin” (Ephesians 2:1-3; Colossians 2:13), who cannot possibly take a first step toward God until they are made alive by a sovereign act of the Holy Spirit (John 3:5-8).

Once alive in Christ solely because of God’s grace, the resulting assurance of salvation “is rather the true root of humility, of childlike respect, of genuine godliness, of endurance in every conflict, of fervent prayers, of steadfastness in crossbearing and in confessing the truth, and of well-founded joy in God.” The Heidelberg Catechism correctly speaks of the Christian life as one of gratitude, with the particulars of such gratitude spelled out here in terms of humility, a childlikeness in accepting the things of God, endurance (reflecting Romans 5:1-5), and clinging to the truth while living in joy.

And it is clear that “reflecting on this benefit”–freedom from the guilt and power of sin– “provides an incentive to a serious and continual practice of thanksgiving and good works, as is evident from the testimonies of Scripture and the examples of the saints.” Freedom from the guilt and power of sin does not create freedom to sin, but the freedom to obey God and live before him joyfully with a clear conscience.

Episode Synopsis:

The next time you pass a Roman Catholic hospital, school, or church named for Catholic “saints,” you ought to remind yourself that you, too, are a “saint.” Only your sainthood is something far greater than an honor bestowed upon you by the Roman church because of your notable piety or service. You are a saint because you are clothed in the faultless righteousness of Jesus Christ, have been called to faith through the gospel, and have been set apart by God for his purposes. Your saintliness is grounded in nothing that you did or accomplished. Rather, the righteousness that reckons you a “saint” was earned for you—through the obedience of Jesus, his death upon the cross, and his triumphant resurrection from the dead.

Like those in Rome receiving Paul’s letter, you too will hear from Paul that you are called to belong to Jesus and are now a saint. If you are a Gentile believer in Jesus, you are, in part, one of the multitude mentioned in Isaiah 49 who has seen the light for the nations—the salvation promised to reach the ends of the earth, granted to you by the Redeemer and Holy One of Israel. Like those in Rome—members of a Christian church in the capital of a pagan empire—you too are serving the God of Israel, who is supremely revealed in Jesus Christ, in whatever locale you may currently find yourself. You are a “saint” living in the midst of pagan darkness—now seeing the world around you through the lens of God’s word, as one called and set apart by God for God, who is your only source of true light and true life.

And since you are in Christ, you are both reckoned a “saint” and are also now to strive to live as the saint that you are. Once called to faith, Paul explains, you will acknowledge who you are in Christ (holy) and then strive to put to death the old self (who you were in Adam). You begin to live as what you are—a saint—now alive in Christ. And to those who are now such “saints”—justified by grace through faith and set apart for God’s purposes—Paul extends to you God’s shalom: “Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Show Notes:

An uneventful recording session—my prayer hedge must be working

There will be a brief Blessed Hope Podcast schedule interruption for some vacation time—the mountains are calling

I’ve completed the podcast script for Season Five through chapter 6 of Romans. I am enjoying every minute of it!

Recommended Resources:

Select Resources for the Study of Romans

B. B. Warfield on Paul’s doxologies — “The God and Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ”

John Murray on definitive and progressive sanctification

From Episode Two . . .

Daily life in Rome

The Roman Empire in the First Century (PBS)

Why did Paul write Romans?

Music:

(Shutterstock): Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op 92m, second movement, Allegretto (A minor)

John Adams wrote to his wife, Abigail, on July 3, 1776, expressing his hopes for the new nation's annual day of celebration:

"It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more."

Let us fulfill John Adam’s wishes! No doubt, 250 years is well-worth a massive national celebration!

But as we celebrate this great day, let us not forget that this remarkable anniversary was brought to us, in part, by thousands upon thousands of men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice of their lives, treasure, and their pledge of sacred honor, so that we might live in freedom, liberty, and enjoy a prosperity of a kind previously unknown in human history.

The National Cemetery in Gettysburg

The Meuse-Argonne Cemetery in France (WW1).

This was far and away the biggest battle ever fought by American soldiers in its 250 year history, but is sadly all but forgotten

The American Cemetery at Normandy, France

Arlington National Cemetery

As Ronald Reagan warned us,

Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom, and then lost it, have never known it again.

May our gracious God preserve what we are so prone to lose . . . I won’t live to see the 300th, but I hope and pray that my grandchildren do!

Who Said That?

The Mosaic code contained all the laws of the Law. And today we live under the law of Christ (Gal. 6:2) or the law of the Spirit of life in Christ (Rom. 8:2). This code contains the hundreds of specific commandments recorded in the New Testament. Now the Mosaic Law was done away with in its entirety as a code . . . . All of the laws of the Mosaic code have been abolished because the code has. Specific Mosaic commands which are part of the Christian code which appear there not as a continuation of part of the Mosaic Law, or in order to be observed in some deeper sense, but specifically incorporated into that code, and as such, they are binding on believers today.

Please leave your guess in the comments section using the link below.  Please no google searches or cheating. Don’t ruin it for everyone else!

Update: the quote is from Charles Ryrie, Basic Theology, page 305 of 1986 Victor Books edition

From Season Five/Episode Three of the Blessed Hope Podcast

As a servant of Christ and an apostle, Paul has been set apart by God for God’s purposes. Since Jesus Christ is Lord, Paul is his servant—literally his “bond-servant.” This is an image his Roman audience would easily understand, but one about which they might miss the full biblical background and significance. “Those who spoke for the Lord, such as Moses and the prophets, were sometimes called `slaves’ of the Lord, and that is probably how Paul uses the term here. He is a slave of Christ because he speaks for Christ.”[1]

Paul was called to the office of Apostle to the Gentiles nearly twenty-five years before composing this letter, while traveling along the Damascus Road on his way to hunt down and arrest Christians (cf. Acts 9:1-19). As John Calvin describes Paul’s conversion, God took a cruel wolf [Saul] and not only made him one of his sheep [Paul], but then transformed Paul into a shepherd and assigned to him the office of apostle of the Gentile flock.[2] Paul was not a dissatisfied Jew seeking something better. Rather, Paul was an avowed enemy of Jesus Christ and was, at the point of his conversion, fully confident in his own righteousness due to law-keeping (cf. Phil. 3:4-6). But Jesus suddenly appeared to him, blinded him, called him to faith, and then transformed him into an apostle.

Paul’s calling to faith in Jesus and to his apostolic office originates in the will of God—not some foreseen good in the sinful human heart which God sees and to which he responds. The verb “to call” (καλειν – kalein) refers to God’s gracious call of sinners to faith, life, and salvation through the preaching of the gospel. In this case, Paul no doubt has in mind the prior calling of God’s servants to a divine purpose, such as that experienced by Abraham (Gen. 12:1-13), Moses (Ex. 3:10), and prophets such as Jeremiah (1:4-5) and Isaiah (49:1b), when the latter writes, “the Lord called me from the womb, from the body of my mother he named my name.” Paul stands in the line of divinely appointed prophets and servants of YHWH.

Elsewhere, Paul makes it clear that those called are said to be dead in sin at the time they are called to faith in Christ (e.g., Eph. 2:1, 5-6; Col. 2:13). But God’s call of those dead in sin to new life in Christ also entails a particular kind of obedience and service in Christ’s church. While all Christians are called to faith in Christ by God through the gospel, Paul’s point here is meant to remind the Romans that he did not obtain his office through personal ambition but through the will of God.[3] Since Christ has called him to his apostolic office, Paul writes with Christ’s authority. What he says, Christ says to the churches. The office of apostle no longer exists in the church today, since the apostles did not ordain new apostles but instead left behind ministers, elders, and deacons to rule the church in Christ’s name and to serve his people (e.g., 1 Tim. 3:1-13; Titus 1:5-10).

Christ’s call uniquely sets Paul apart to preach the gospel, the message which he defines in 1 Corinthians 15:1-8 as the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, according to the Scriptures.[4] The gospel has nothing whatsoever to do with any human action, nor with our response to God as called for by the gospel. Rather, the gospel has everything to do with God’s saving act in history in the person and work of Jesus Christ. Martin Luther was dead on when he told his struggling protégé Philip Melanchthon, “the gospel is wholly outside of us.”[5]

To proclaim the gospel is to focus upon those historical events through which God saves sinners, specifically the cross, our Lord’s burial, and the empty tomb. It is news proclaimed, which once heard changes the hearer’s reality. Picture an out-of-breath and panicked runner entering your village and crying out, “the enemy is just over the hill and they are headed this way.” That news changes everything and demands immediate action. In this case, the gospel, once heard, demands a response of faith. The ground has opened up beneath the hearer’s feet.

What Jesus does, he does in the place of sinners. James Ware points out that, “Paul transmitted these core beliefs in the context of a gospel whose epicenter is the incarnation. . . . This Christ died on our behalf, that is to deal with our sins.” He concludes, “the concept of substitution is woven into the very earliest of the Christian creeds.”[6] The proper response to the news that God saves sinners through the person and work of his Son, Jesus, who dies on a Roman cross in the place of sinners, is faith (trust) and repentance (turning from sin). But our response to the gospel is not the gospel! Nor should the preaching of the gospel be cluttered with the confusing language of pop evangelicalism, such as “asking Jesus into our hearts,” or “accepting Jesus as our personal savior.”

_____________________________________

[1] Thielman, Romans, ZEC, 58, Thielman lists the passages where “slave” is used in the Old Testament. “For Moses, see, e.g., Neh 9:14; Ps 105:26 (LXX 104:26); Mal 4:4 (LXX 3:24); and Dan 9:11. For the prophets, see, e.g., Ezra 9:11; Jer 7:25; 25:4; Ezek 38:17; Dan 9:6, 10; Amos 3:7; Zech 1:6. Cf. Josephus, Ant. 5.39; 11.90.”

[2] Calvin, The Acts of the Apostles, Vol.1, 256.

[3] Cranfield, Commentary on Romans, I.50-51.

[4] Paul is thinking of the sign of Jonah (cf. Matthew12:39-41 and perhaps to Isaiah 53:5-6; 11-12.

[5] Luther’s Works, Vol. 48. 277-282. Letter number 91.

[6] James P. Ware, The Final Triumph of God: Jesus, the Eyewitnesses, and the Resurrection of the Body in 1 Corinthians 15 (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 2025), 76, 78.

The Uniqueness of Christianity — God Incarnate

I know of no religious truth claim quite like the one found in the opening verses of John’s first epistle. According to the author (John)–who claims to be an eyewitness to the earthly ministry of Jesus Christ–God himself was manifest in human flesh in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. The author knows this to be true because with his own ears he has heard God in the flesh teach and preach. With his own eyes, John has seen God in the flesh perform miracles, demonstrate his glory, and present himself alive after his resurrection from the dead. With his own hands, John has reached out and touched the very son of God. Even as John opens this epistle, he proclaims to us that we too may have fellowship with that same incarnate word whom John describes throughout this epistle as God manifest in the flesh. Therefore, Christianity is a religion of flesh and blood, anchored in the public record of history, and not in the secret recesses of the sinful human heart.

The Background to John’s Three Short Epistles

We begin a new series—an exposition of the epistles of John. These epistles include the letters known to us as 1st , 2nd , and 3rd John. In order to interpret these epistles correctly, it is vital that we know something about the historical background and circumstances which led to their composition. Therefore, I’d like to spend some time going through this material before we turn our attention to the first four verses of John’s first epistle, in which John announces his intention to proclaim to us that Jesus is the word of life, God manifest in the flesh.

The historical circumstances which led to the writing of John’s epistles is vastly different from that of the Book of James, which we covered previously. James was written about ten years after Christ’s death, resurrection, and ascension to a group of persecuted Jewish Christians living throughout Palestine and Syria. John, on the other hand, is writing to a group of house churches in and around Ephesus (made up of Jews and Gentiles). Not only does John compose these epistles as much as a generation later than James, the churches to which he was writing were facing a number of false teachers who were denying that Jesus was God in the flesh. Sadly, many of those teaching such a thing were men who had departed from the faith they previously professed. John must deal with an entirely different set of circumstances than James. If James was the earliest letter in the New Testament, the epistles of John are surely among the last documents to be included in the canon of the New Testament.

The case is overwhelming that these three letters were written by the apostle John. Based upon the grammar and style of these three letters, there can be no doubt that they were written by the same person who composed the Gospel of John.[1] In fact, virtually every line in this epistle demonstrates some sort of similarity to, or dependance upon, the Gospel of John.[2] Although critical scholars go to unbelievable lengths to argue that these letters were not actually written by John (the apostle and associate of Jesus), they are not driven to this conclusion because of any evidence, but because of their rather ingenious but purely speculative theories about gospel origins.[3] The traditional view that the gospel and the three letters of John all came from the apostle John, still has far and away the most evidence in its favor.[4]

The early church was unanimous in its testimony that both the gospel and these three letters come from the hand of John, son of Zebedee and brother of James. Recall that John’s brother James (who is not the author of the Epistle of James–that epistle came from the other James, the brother of Jesus), also was a member of Jesus’s inner circle (along with his brother John, and the apostle Peter). A number of early Christian writings (written before the end of the first century) allude to John’s epistles. Polycarp–who was an elder in the church of Smyrna and who was martyred about 165 CE, claimed to have been a disciple of John. He mentions John’s teaching about antichrist in an epistle written about 140 CE. Papias–an elder in the first part of second century in what is now Turkey–also knew of John’s epistles. Other church fathers like Irenaeus, Clement, and Tertullian all knew of these epistles, and tie them directly to John the Apostle of whom they all believe to be the author of the fourth gospel.[5] In fact, there are no challenges to John’s authorship of these letters until much, much, later.

When and Why Did John Write These Epistles?

The more important questions for us are “when did John write these epistles?” and “did he write them before, or after, he wrote his gospel?” Here again, church tradition is helpful. Tradition holds that in the days immediately before Rome surrounded and destroyed the city of Jerusalem and its temple (in 70 CE), John along with Philip (the apostle) left Jerusalem and made their way to Ephesus (in Asia Minor), the city with which John was long associated, and where it is believed that he was buried.[6] According to Luke 21:20, Jesus warned the disciples that when they saw Jerusalem surrounded by armies they were to flee because the destruction of the city was near. Apparenyly, John heeded Jesus’s warning, fled Jerusalem, and lived out the rest of his life in Ephesus, dying of old age at some point during the reign of the Roman emperor Trajan (who reigned from 98-117 CE). If John were a young man during the time he was with Jesus, he died as an elderly man (tradition says in his nineties) at some point after his exile to the Island of Patmos, where he has given the vision we know as the Book of Revelation (written as late as 95 CE, but perhaps earlier).

Although some scholars tie the date of John’s Gospel to the time of upheaval in Jerusalem (before 70 CE), when there was the need to record the teaching of Jesus to proclaim in the churches, especially after the death of Paul (in Rome about 66 CE),[7] I think the evidence points toward a later period, after John had relocated to Ephesus. Given the similarities between the gospel and the epistles, we know that they came from the same hand and were likely written within a few years of each other. So, either John’s gospel is an expansion of the themes set out earlier in his three epistles, or else the epistles are written to elaborate on themes in the gospel and to correct false teachers who were distorting John’s gospel.

The latter seems to me to be the case, especially given John’s comments in 1 John 2:19–21, “They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us. But they went out, that it might become plain that they all are not of us. But you have been anointed by the Holy One, and you all have knowledge. I write to you, not because you do not know the truth, but because you know it, and because no lie is of the truth.” John assumes the reader of this epistle already knows the truth, an indication that John wrote his gospel first (whether that be in Jerusalem or in Ephesus), and that the epistles were written a bit later, to more fully explain certain things in his gospel that were being distorted by false teachers, people whom John describes as having departed from the faith, and who were doing the work of antichrist.

John’s First Epistle—A Pastoral Letter?

This brings us to a discussion as to why John wrote these epistles. If these letters were written after the gospel, then John is writing to do two things. One purpose in writing is clearly pastoral. Like the epistles of James and Jude, this letter lacks the formal introduction and closing personal greetings we see in the letters of Paul. One explanation as to why John’s epistle comes in the form of a letter–the content and structure of these epistles seems disjointed at first–is that like James’s, John’s first epistle is actually a short sermon, intended to be read in the churches. In fact, as we’ll see, a number of scholars believe that both 2nd and 3rd John were cover letters, sent along with this epistle to different destinations.

That this letter is actually a sermon is supported in 1 John 5:13 when John spells out his basic purpose in writing. “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life.” This virtually echoes the familiar purpose statement of John’s gospel, found in John 20:31: “These [things] are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.” To those who haven’t read his gospel, this epistle will give them a helpful summary. To those who have read his gospel previously but have questions about its content, hopefully, this letter will clarify and correct any misunderstandings or questions they may have about what it means to have eternal life. And so in a sense then, John preaches to his reader. He presents the truth in a very direct and positive way, knowing that truth drives out error.[8]

False Teachers Have Arisen

But John also has another important purpose in writing. We can deduce from the contents of this letter, that there were false teachers in and around Ephesus who were actively attempting to deceive God’s people. As I mentioned, John indicates that some of these false teachers “went out from us,” meaning that at one time, apparently, they were professing Christians. Now they are apostates, teaching a dangerous false doctrine. The specific error they were teaching is addressed by John in 2:22–“who is the liar but he who denies that Jesus is the Christ? This is the antichrist, he who denies the Father and the Son.” Some had believed that Jesus was the son of God, the word made flesh, but had abandoned that belief. John speaks of those who now reject Jesus as God manifest in the flesh as having been seduced by the spirit of antichrist (1 John 4:3). As we will see, what John says about antichrist and what the contemporary prophecy pundits say about antichrist are two very different things!

What led people to embrace this heresy? We do know that Asia Minor (modern Turkey, where Ephesus was located) was home to an early form of Gnosticism. Gnosticism did not become a full-blown religious system for another half-century–but the seeds of this heresy had already been sown in Hellenistic [Greek] soil. Therefore, it is important to understand a few things about Gnosticism so as to understand what John is combating. Gnostic thinkers set up a dualism between pure spirit (the good) and matter (which is evil). The word “gnostic” comes from the Greek word “to know” and refers to the secret knowledge that enlightened followers gain, usually through some sort of religious experience taught them by an “enlightened teacher.” Only “insiders” are in the know. Gnostic teachers often claimed to possess secret teachings of Jesus, which is why all the apocryphal gospels appear after this time (i.e., the “lost books”–like the Gospel of Thomas, etc.) which are attributed to apostles, but are obvious forgeries and filled with Gnostic and heretical ideas about Jesus.

The Proto-Gnostic Problem—God Present in the Flesh

But the primary issue with which John must deal is the gnostic dualism which holds that matter is evil because it is matter. If matter is evil, how can Jesus Christ be God manifest in the flesh? How could God (who is pure spirit) ever take to himself a true human nature (i.e. “flesh”)? The false teachers whom John opposes are troubled by the very idea of Christ’s incarnation–God manifest in the flesh is an impossibility for them. This explains why John emphasizes the point that God was made manifest so emphatically. If flesh is evil because it is material, then how can Jesus take to himself a true human nature? Pure spirit could never exist in an incarnate form. But if Jesus is God manifest in the flesh, the supposed dualism between matter and spirit is completely overturned. This is why John anchors the very truth and essence of Christianity in the fact of the incarnation. Christianity is true because in Jesus, God was made manifest in the flesh. To deny the incarnation is to embrace the spirit of antichrist.

The Gnostic counterclaim to Christ’s incarnation was to argue that while Jesus was fully God, he only appeared (or manifested himself) in human form. In other words, Jesus was fully God, but he only took the form, or the appearance of a man. This is the ancient heresy called docetism (from the Greek word to “seem” or “appear”). When John speaks of people denying that Jesus is the Christ, it is to this heresy that he is referring. And John speaks of those who teach such a thing as “antichrists”–hardly a complementary term. This is why the docetic heresy is such a threat to Christianity and why John opposes it so militantly. There is a famous story recounted by the church father Polycarp, of how the apostle John had been in the public bath house in Ephesus and encountered a man named Cerinthus, who was a noted gnostic teacher. John supposedly exclaimed, “Let us save ourselves: the bath house may fall down, for inside is Cerinthus, the enemy of truth.”[9] John could not countenance being in the same building with the man.

The serious threat posed by this early form of Gnosticism, the possible presence of an arch-heretic like Cerinthus in the area around Ephesus, along the rise of the docetic heresy (Jesus was God, but only appeared in human form) explains why John opens his epistle by making the truth claim that Jesus was God manifest in the flesh. Despite the docetic heresy and the claims made by heretics like Cerinthus, John knows otherwise. John has seen, heard, and touched the very word made flesh.

The Word Assumes a Human Nature and Can Be Heard, Seen, and Touched

With the preceding in mind, we turn to the first four verses of 1 John.

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life—the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us—that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.

The first thing to keep in mind is to notice their strong similarity to the prologue of John’s gospel (verses 1-14). In the epistles, as in the gospel, John speaks of the “word of life.” In his epistle, John not only opens by focusing upon Jesus as the word of life and God manifest in the flesh, but he closes with this same theme as well. In 1 John 5:20, John concludes this epistle with these words. “And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.” So, from the opening words to the closing, John is concerned to remind his reader of what they already know (not what they need to learn from some “enlightened teacher)–that in the person of Jesus Christ, who is true God and true man–God came to earth, to save us from our sins. This is all the more remarkable when we consider a passage such as Jeremiah 23:24, in which we read God declaring of himself, “Do I not fill heaven and earth?” Yes, he does. And now in the word of life, that same God was made manifest in the flesh. In the incarnation of Jesus, the transcendent God becomes immanent and even dwells among us (John 1:14).

While John will have a great deal to say about the Christian life–especially the need for God’s people to love one another, he begins by reaffirming the humanity of Jesus. If we do not understand who Jesus is, then we cannot understand what he came to do. And if we don’t understand both his person and work, then we will quickly fall prey to that notion which characterizes all false religion, our works earn favor with God. No, what we do as Christians flows out from our faith in Christ–who is the one who gives us eternal life as a free gift. We do not find salvation through some sort of quest to discover the hidden mysteries which Jesus came to reveal to a few “enlightened ones.” John’s whole point is that salvation comes to us publicly in the word who was made manifest–hence John’s emphasis upon seeing, hearing, and touching the one who gives life in verse 1–“That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life.” A phantom, docetic Jesus cannot be touched. Recall the wonderful statement uttered by Jesus as recorded in Luke’s gospel. “See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Touch me, and see. For a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have” (Luke 24:39).

In Jesus Is Life Eternal

Verse 2 is an elaboration upon John’s prior comment. “The life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us.” The life (which is a reference to the eternal life that Jesus gives) was made manifest (was revealed) in his earthly ministry. John’s connection of this life to the word ties this to Christ’s person as well as to Christian preaching of that word, i.e., the gospel.[10] John has made this point earlier in his gospel–when he recounts Jesus speaking of himself in these terms “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). In chapter 3 of this epistle, John ties this directly to Jesus’s messianic mission. In verses 5 and 8 of 1 John 3 we read, “You know that he appeared to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. . . . Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the devil.” Jesus “appeared” not as a ghost, or as an apparition, but was revealed (or was made manifest) in the flesh.

Jesus did not come to reveal a form of esoteric knowledge to a few enlightened followers (as is typical of Gnosticism). Rather, Jesus was publicly revealed (“was made manifest”) to do what was necessary (die upon the cross, live a perfect life, and cause us to be raised to newness of life in regeneration when we are “born again”) so that we who were dead in sin, might have “life” (i.e. eternal life). The public and physical nature of Christ’s redemptive work explains John’s emphasis upon having seen this with his own eyes. Notice too that throughout this section John speaks in the first person plural–“we.” He does this to emphasize the fact that he (and the disciples, and countless others) were eyewitnesses to Jesus’s earthly ministry. Jesus didn’t just “appear” in human form. He took to himself a true human nature. Jesus walked, talked, laughed, ate, went to the bathroom, became tired, slept, and even suffered. Jesus was no mere docetic phantom! He was God in human flesh! The one who brings eternal life, comes to us in human history.[11] John saw him, heard him, and even touched him.

Good News, Indeed!

But not only did John see this life revealed in Christ with his own eyes, he has already proclaimed this message of eternal life (in his gospel) and will do so again in this epistle. The whole point of Christ revealing himself in this way is so that his disciples might proclaim this message (the word of life) to the ends of the earth. If in Jesus God’s people have eternal life, then God’s people must bear witness to this same Jesus, by proclaiming both his person (true God and true man) and his work (he came to bring eternal life, having made a propitiation for our sins–cf. 1 John 2:2; 4:10). God was manifest in the flesh so that his people might proclaim this word of life to the nations. This is why the gospel is called “good news.” Good news is something to be proclaimed. And according to John, proclaiming the good news is the way people receive eternal life!

This becomes clear in verse 3, when John points out “that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ.” John has seen him, heard him, touched him, and proclaimed him. The reason? So that sinners may receive eternal life, believe in him, and then enjoy fellowship with both Father and his Son Jesus, as well as with all those who have embraced this word of life by faith. That word (which always was, and was with the Father for all eternity) has now been proclaimed. And those who have found in Jesus the way (to God), the truth (Jesus accomplished all of these things in history) and the life (indeed, Jesus himself creates eternal life though the proclamation of the gospel), now enjoy “fellowship” (koinonia) with all those who have been given life. As John will put it in verse 20 of chapter 5, “And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.” All those who have life are “in him” and enjoy a bond of love and charity they could never know apart from Christ. John wants nothing more than for his readers to share in this fellowship.

And so John can say in verse 4, “And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.” This is John’s hope as he writes. This is the blessing God has promised to his people. That God was manifest in the flesh is the basis of both our fellowship with God as well as with each other. As some have pointed out, John’s words have an eschatological focus as well. One day that fellowship which we presently enjoy “in him” will be complete when we are in the presence of the Father and his Son Jesus. That is the ultimate and consummate blessing of eternal life. And while we know joy in this life because of Christ, when all is brought to completion, then our joy will be complete. What a glorious and remarkable promise! We will enjoy the most intimate and perfect fellowship with each other because of our mutual fellowship with the Father and the Son in their very presence. But this is the very thing the false teachers deny. This is why John bears direct witness to the word of life, God manifest in the flesh.

What Do We Say By Way of Application?

From John’s comments both here and in his gospel, it is clear that eternal life is tied to the fact that the very eternal word was made flesh and was made manifest in human history. Jesus doesn’t save us by revealing to us “secret knowledge” so that we can discover the hidden path to enlightenment. Jesus did not merely “appear” in human form so as to impress us with his miraculous powers. As B. B. Warfield once pointed out, Christianity is unique among the world’s religions because its major doctrines (like the incarnation) are also historical facts (that which John heard, saw, and touched). If John heard, saw and touched these things, then Christianity is true. If he didn’t, then Christianity is false. It is that simple. Either God was made manifest in the flesh, or he wasn’t. If he was, then Jesus alone is the word of life.

And the reason why the word of life was made manifest in the flesh is so that we might have eternal life. A docetic phantom cannot shed blood and offer up himself as a propitiation for our sins. A docetic Jesus cannot be born under the law to fulfill all righteousness by his perfect and faultless obedience to the law of God. No, this requires God to come in the flesh. In order for Jesus to be the word of life, he must take to himself a true human nature in the womb of the virgin. He must do for us what he could not do for ourselves. And this is the message of John. And how do we know his message is true? Certainly not because someone has revealed to us the secrets about Jesus. No, we know this to be true because John saw him. John heard him. John touched him. And John says “that which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life—the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life.” And that word of life is Jesus.

_____________________________________

[1] Stephen S. Smalley, 1,2,3 John, Word Biblical Commentary, 1984), xxii.

[2] Raymond E. Brown, The Epistles of John, The Anchor Bible (Garden City: Doubleday, 1982), 757-759.

[3] See, for example; Brown, The Epistles of John, 69-115.

[4] See, for example Donald Guthrie, New Testament Introduction (Downers Grove, InterVarsity Press, 1990), 858-864; Carson, Moo, Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 446-450.

[5] See the discussion in Brown, The Epistles of John, 6-9.

[6] Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History, XXXI.

[7] See Daniel Wallace’s discussion of this @ Bible.org.

[8] Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, 866-868.

[9] Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 3.3.4. See the discussion of the possibility of Cerinthus being John’s primary opponent in this epistle; Brown, The Epistles of John, 766-771.

[10] Smalley, 1, 2, 3, John, 6

[11] John Stott, The Epistles of John, Tyndale New Testament Commentary (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1964), 61-63.